


Miss Sonny

by WhyDoIWrite



Category: Women's Soccer RPF
Genre: A friendly little playground rivalry, All the teachers are gay, Career Ending Injuries, Clumsy Kelley, Co-workers to lovers, College Athlete, Ex Sex, F/F, NWSL, Not over the ex, Sharing Clothes, Shots shots shots shots shots, Shy gays, Teacher Teacher, dive bar
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-22
Updated: 2020-09-06
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:53:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 32,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22835083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhyDoIWrite/pseuds/WhyDoIWrite
Summary: There's a new teacher at Kelley's work.  She's blonde and she's cute, and Kelley melts into a blubbering (and clumsy) mess around her.  But if Christen has anything to do with it, she'll get them talking, despite how nervous both of them seem to be around each other.
Relationships: Kelley O'Hara/Emily Sonnett, Kelley O’Hara/Christen Press, Lindsey Horan/Kelley O’Hara, Rose Lavelle/Sam Mewis, Tobin Heath/Christen Press
Comments: 98
Kudos: 422





	1. Slides

**Author's Note:**

> We didn’t need pictures of Sonny with kids, but now that we have them...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kelley finally notices the new teacher.

“She seems sweet, don’t you think?”

”Who?” Christen asks, not bothering to look up, as she stares at her nails. 

”The new kinder teacher,” Kelley says, trying to sound casual.

 _Now_ Christen looks up. The new teacher is playing on the playground with her kids. Like _actually_ playing with them. “She probably doesn’t know that we don’t need to do that. I mean, she could look at us and figure it out,” Christen says, motioning to her nail file and Kelley’s phone. “But I guess someone should tell her.”

”I think it’s kinda cute,” Kelley muses after a minute.

”It’s cute? Or _she’s_ cute?” Christen is now fully engaged in this conversation. Granted, her ears are hearing what they want to hear and not the words that are actually coming out of Kelley’s mouth, but that doesn’t matter. Kelley’s tone matters, and her focus matters. Maybe Kelley’s finally interested in someone again. Christen tried to set her up a few times after her relationship ended, but Kelley wouldn’t even entertain the idea. It’s been 9 months since Lindsey left her and broke her heart in the process. Christen was starting to think that maybe Kelley was so hurt she was going to try really hard to never love again. This seems like progress.

”It’s cute,” Kelley repeats. “Look how good she is with them. They’re having fun. She seems fun.”

Christen stares at Kelley, but Kelley doesn’t even notice. She’s too busy focusing all of her attention on the playground. On a certain someone on the playground. Sliding down the slide that’s too small for her. Exiting the slide with a somersault to a round of applause from a group of 5-year-olds. Finally, Christen kicks Kelley’s shin under the table.

”Hey!” Kelley shouts. And then she sees Christen's knowing expression. “What?” she asks, annoyed.

”What? Well first of all, stop drooling. And secondly, since when are you into _sweet_?”

”I’m not into her. She’s not even my type,” Kelley insists.

”Mmhmm,” Christen mutters, not convinced. “Blonde, cute, young, dimples. Yeah, she’s no one’s type, Kell. Keep telling yourself that.”

Kelley ignores her, and tears her eyes away from the new teacher, so she can be overly focused on her own students playing on the basketball court. 

Christen knows it’s on purpose. Kelley is known for not watching her kids on the playground. They fall and scrape their knees and Kelley has to ask how it happened before she takes them to the nurse, so she has her story straight when they arrive. They get in arguments over foul balls in kickball and turn to their referee, Kelley, who is standing on the sideline, on her phone. She tells them to find a way to work it out. She tells her admin that she’s teaching them to be cooperative problem-solvers. The kids tend to play Rock Paper Scissors to determine if it’s a strike or a base hit. 

“You should just go talk to her,” Christen suggests, her voice gentler this time.

* * *

Kelley doesn’t go talk to her. Not that day or the next or the day after that. Not the week after that either. It doesn’t mean Kelley stops watching her though. 

Kelley watches how the new teacher takes her coffee when she comes into the lounge in the morning. Heavy cream, real sugar. Not at all like Lindsey

Kelley watches how she spends faculty meetings sketching on the back of the agenda she’s been handed as she enters the room. How her slight hands move so nimbly and assuredly while she draws. Her hands are nothing like Lindsey's, her slender fingers free of nail polish. 

Kelley watches how unsure she seems when she has to talk to a faculty member. How she rubs the back of her neck and sometimes twists the ring on her right hand. Lindsey never seemed nervous around anyone. She was always so poised.

And Kelley watches the sharp contrast of how the new teacher seems perfectly at ease with her students. She chases them. She hugs them. She sits on the ground with them. And she always plays with them. 

Always.

Which is why Kelley hasn’t had a chance to talk to her. They don’t have the same lunch. They don’t have the same conference period. They’re not on the same team or even in the same hallway. Mixed-level recess is the only time they share the same space, and the new teacher spends it hanging out with her kids, not with Kelley and Christen.

But then one recess, the new teacher brings a soccer ball out, and that especially catches Kelley’s eye, more so than the blonde bun and blue-gray eyes did, maybe. Ok, probably not, but Kelley loves soccer. Kelley played soccer. Kelley was _good_ at soccer. At first, Kelley just watches this play out too. Turns out the blonde-haired woman can actually play. Well.

She lines her minions up and weaves in and out of them like they're human cones. They cheer her on, telling her to dribble faster. 

She makes them spread their legs wide and she passes the ball through like she’s playing croquet. She screams “Megged ya!” ever time, and they fall over laughing until she’s effectively knocked them all down. Then she runs around the field tickling them all while they're still down, until they're laughing so hard they can't get up. "She must be exhausted when she goes home," Christen muses, barely looking up. But Kelley thinks the new teacher doesn't ever look tired. 

She fits her entire class across the face of the goal and lines up to take PK's. This, Kelley frowns upon. Smacking a 5-year-old in the face with a soccer ball seems like grounds for firing. But she hits the top corners every time. Well sometimes, she hits the crossbar. Her kiddos tell her, "You'll get it next time. Keep trying!" They are just as happy for her when she misses as when she makes it. Kelley works with third graders. She knows nothing about little kids. She can't tell if they're so positive because that's just how little kids are, or because the new teacher has taught them well. Until one day, the new teacher shanks the ball, so far wide that it ends up under the table where Kelley and Christen are sitting, and Kelley distinctly hears a 5-year-old say. "It's ok, Miss Sonny. Your self-worth isn't determined by how good you are at soccer."

_Seriously? What the fuck is she teaching these kids? They’re 5!_

The ball comes to a stop at Christen's feet. She taps it over to Kelley. "This is your chance," Christen nudges her. "Miss I-Played-College-Soccer. Go show her how it's done."

Kelley stares at her. "Uh, I-, um, ok." And Christen shoots her a look that says, _What the heck is wrong with you_? _This is your wheelhouse!_

Kelley grabs the ball and makes her way towards the field, carrying it instead of dribbling it. "Hey, um, I think this is yours?" she says awkwardly.

The new teacher laughs, a little nervously, Kelley thinks. "Yeah, uh, I finally missed one, I guess. I’ve been on a roll this week," she says looking down and rubbing the back of her neck. "Thanks." She reaches out and takes the ball from Kelley, tucking it under her arm. "I'm Em. Emily. Sonnett. I haven't met you yet." She sticks out her hand towards Kelley.

"Kelley O'Hara," Kelley says, taking it. 

"Yeah, I know," Sonnett says, dropping Kelley's hand and going back to rubbing her neck. "Everyone talks about you." She must see something on Kelley's face, which is not surprising because Kelley isn't the best at hiding her thoughts. "In- in a good way, I mean," Sonnett adds. "They talk about what a good teacher you are. How you have your kids in check. All good. Always."

It makes Kelley feel a little better, though she is curious about who this they is. She decides not to ask. "One miss out of seventeen shots isn't bad, you know," Kelley tries to assure Sonnett. "It's like 94% accuracy this week." The words are out of her mouth before she realizes how ridiculous it must sound that she's actually counted how many PK's Sonnett has taken over the past two days. Emily cocks her head to the side and furrows her brow. "Bye," Kelley says with a little wave as she turns around, face bright red and ears burning.

"Well? How'd it go?" Christen wants to know as soon as Kelley is seated back at their table. 

"Um. She definitely thinks I'm a stalker. I told her that her PK accuracy is 94%."

Christen snorts, almost spewing coffee through her nose. When she composes herself, she tries to make Kelley feel better. "Well did you at least tell her you played in college? Because maybe then she wouldn't think the stalker-level attention was that weird if she knew."

"No. I didn't. I kinda forgot that I played soccer. And maybe I forgot how words work. And conversation. And social norms."

"And flirting, apparently," Christen adds. "What happened to you, O'Hara? You had such game when I met you in college."

"I did not," Kelley tries to argue. But she knows Christen is right. Kelley used to be smooth. Confident verging on cocky. At Stanford, she knew she was hot stuff, and it showed. And all the girls loved being around her, loved the attention she would shower on them. Christen was no exception. 

"I wouldn't have ever gone out with you if you didn't have game," Christen jokes. "But you had me the minute you winked at me across the locker room."

"You don't even like girls with game. Case in point: Tobin."

"Tobin has game," Christen argues. "Her game is to be so chill it _seems_ like she doesn't have game. How could I resist that?" With that, Christen spies Tobin across the playground on the concrete pad. Weather-permitting, Tobin is always outside with her classes. Tobin is the art teacher, and she's currently barefoot, her dark clothes covered in chalk dust. _At least that's easier to get out of the fabric than paint is_ , Christen thinks to herself, wishing Tobin would just wear an art smock, or an apron. Christen gives Tobin a smile and a little wave. Tobin responds with a wink and her typical head toss 'sup. Christen giggles.

"Better stop with the heart eyes before someone notices," Kelley jokes. 

* * *

On their third date, when Tobin parked in front of Christen's apartment to drop her off, Christen had asked her how she was able to get away with having class outside when it was nice out. "Oh, that's easy. I told Mrs. Lloyd that natural light is better for making art. She bought it."

"They're elementary kids. Why would she think lighting matters that much?" Christen laughed.

Tobin shrugged. "I dunno. But you're outside for recess three times a day, and I needed an excuse to be out there, too. That's the best I could think of on short notice. I knew she'd go along with it. I'm _very_ persuasive."

Christen had blushed before she narrowed her eyes at Tobin. "Oh is that so? How persuasive?"

Tobin dropped her hand into Christen's lap. "I bet I can get you to kiss me before I kiss you," Tobin said confidently.

"Unlikely," Christen said, equalling her confidence.

"Let's make a bet out of it. If I get you to kiss me, you invite me in for a drink," Tobin had suggested.

"And if I win?"

"You won't." And with that, Tobin had leaned in, her lips passing precariously close to Christen's as she moved towards Christen's ear. "You're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen," she whispered, her hot breath tickling Christen's ear. "You're like, so far outta my league.” She let her hand climb higher on Christen's thigh, fingers brushing under the hem of Christen's very short ripped jean shorts. "I can't even think when I'm around you at work. I just keep staring at your lips. I want to know what they feel like. I want to taste them." She nibbled on Christen's earlobe. "Chris," she whispered, raising her hand to Christen's face, curling her fingers behind Christen's neck, playing with the stray curls there. That was all it took. Christen's lips were on Tobin's in a flash, and before she knew it, before she meant to, her tongue was inside Tobin's mouth. Tobin got her invite into Christen's apartment that night. They never looked back. 

* * *

Christen and Tobin have been together for years, but Kelley's the only one at work who knows, and she only knows because she's known Christen forever. They're well aware of the consequences of people finding out about them. Best case scenario, one of them would be reassigned to the middle or high school. Worst case scenario, they'd lose their jobs. It's hard to tell at a charter school, so they remain two of the most reserved people on the faculty. "You're the one who needs to cut the heart eyes out," Christen says seriously. She knew this new teacher was exactly Kelley's type. And she hopes that this new teacher is exactly what Kelley needs to finally get over Lindsey.

"Lindsey happened to me," Kelley mutters sadly, finally answering Christen’s question. "I haven't had to flirt in years. I don't even know how to anymore."

Christen drapes her arm across Kelley's shoulder sympathetically. "It'll come back to you." _And if it doesn’t_ , she thinks, _I’ll just help you along._


	2. Spill

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Getting coffee for someone you might have a crush on is usually a safe bet, unless...  
> Unless your name is Kelley O'Hara.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fridays are jeans days for teachers if you wear a college shirt, at schools down here at least.

Christen gives Kelley two days to make a move - to go talk to Sonnett, to bring up soccer, to pass a ball with her. Anything. Kelley does nothing. In fact, she seems to be trying _really_ hard to not look in Sonnett's direction at all. 

Christen gives Sonnett two days as well - to miss another PK - because to Christen, that miss seemed a little on purpose, a little like she _wanted_ the ball to sail in Kelley's direction. And Christen watched as Kelley headed back towards the table; Sonnett sure kept staring after her, probably at Kelley's ass. Christen can't blame her; Kelley has a nice ass. That's common knowledge, right? But Sonnett doesn't miss a single one, not even a glancing blow off the crossbar that Kelley can shag for her. 

Christen's kind enough to give Kelley a heads up about her plan though, with a text before six on Friday morning. 

**Pressy** : Make a move O'Hara, or I'm going to act as your wingwoman at recess today.

 **KO** : Wingwomen aren't allowed at work.

 **Pressy** : You've never told me what to do. You're not starting now. I'll wingwoman if I want to.

 **KO** : I don't know who gave you a degree from Stanford, but your command of the English language is questionable.

 **Pressy** : Your status as a lesbian is questionable.

Kelley wouldn't even bother to think that Christen was serious about any of this, except Christen _hates_ mornings. The fact that she can put together a coherent sentence, and a threat no less, while it's still dark out, is remarkable.

Kelley thinks about it as she drives to work. Then she takes a deep breath, curses at herself, and makes a detour towards Starbucks.

* * *

Kelley walks down the empty hall to Sonnett's classroom. It's early. She's half expecting to find a dark room and a locked door, which would put an end to this because then at least she could tell Christen that she made an effort. Fortunately, or maybe unfortunately, the lights are on and the door is propped wide open. Kelley steps inside, carrying a coffee in each hand. Sonnett is sitting on the floor, criss cross applesauce, cutting out laminated animals and numbers, presumably from the One Fox book that sits on the floor next to her. Kelley think Sonnett looks ridiculous on the floor; she's got a desk and an entire workspace for this purpose. But she also looks cute -s _o_ _cute -_ when she looks up at Kelley with those eyes.

Smooth Kelley would have grabbed a seat next to her on the floor. 

Smooth Kelley would have found a second pair of scissors and volunteered to help. 

Smooth Kelley would have, at a minimum, made fun of Sonnett for working on the floor like a child. 

"Have you had your morning this coffee?" Kelley asks.

Smooth Kelley doesn't exist anymore, apparently. 

Sonnett cocks her head to the side and smirks, but she manages to keep her mouth shut. It seems like that's a real struggle for her though.

"Oh fuck!" Kelley says. She sets the coffee down on Sonnett's desk, not even bothering to try again, turns on her heel, and leaves, face red, ears burning. Again. She goes looking for Christen, who's in Tobin's studio. She needs someone to commiserate with. She tells them the story. Tobin makes fun of her. Christen tries not to, ensuring Kelley that Sonnett probably found it endearing, and encouraging her to try again. But then she makes fun of Kelley. Kelley insists that things were much better before she started trying. Trying seems to be the problem. Kelley hides in Tobin's room until it's time to go to morning duty. Being teased by her ex-girlfriend and her ex-girlfriend's girlfriend is far better than possibly running into Sonnett after _that_. She doesn't even drink her coffee. She's too traumatized. 

But Kelley can't escape Sonnett forever. Christen has to drag her to the cafeteria, reminding her of the consequences if Mrs. Lloyd realizes she's not at morning duty. And while Kelley's perched on the edge of the stage, supervising, or rather, loosely supervising her children while they eat breakfast, and sipping her now-cold coffee, Sonnett sidles up next to her. 

"Thanks for the morning," she grins shyly as she makes fun of Kelley. Sonnett briefly looks at Kelley, but drops her gaze as soon as Kelley's eyes meets hers, like the eye contact makes her confidence fade instantaneously. "It was just the way I like it," she mumbles, as if while the words were on the way out, she was already questioning whether or not she should have said them. 

It doesn't stop Kelley from staring at her lips. They look thin, pressed together like that, in a slight smile that Kelley can still make out, even with Sonnett's head hanging now as she stares at her scuffed adidas shoes. "Maybe I pay attention sometimes," Kelley says quietly.

Sonnett looks out into the cafeteria for a moment, like she doesn't know what to say in response to that. Kelley likes putting her on edge like this, even if Sonnett seems to be on edge around most people. It's nice that the tables might could be turned when Kelley plays her cards right. Sonnett interrupts her glorious thought. "Then you should probably pay attention to your kids, because it looks like one of them is about to start a food fight," Sonnett says, nudging Kelley's shoulder. 

"Tony!" Kelley shouts from across the cafeteria, her sharp voice carrying easily over the din of several hundred children all eating and talking at the same time. Tony has a large scoop of egg poised precariously on his spoon, in the ready position to launch it like a catapult. She hops off of the stage and walks, briskly and with authority, towards her students' table. "You put that egg in your mouth right this instant," she seethes through clenched teeth. 

"But I don't like it," Tony whines. 

"Are you vegan?" Kelley asks sternly.

"No ma'am. I had chicken nuggets last night."

Good. The nutrition lessons that she's giving outside of the curriculum are working. Well, somewhat. The kid _is_ still eating chicken nuggets. "You picked the food up, kid. In your mouth it goes." Tony complies, but mainly because he looks scared. "Good. Now chew. Swallow. Now, who were you about to launch that at?"

"Lauren," he admits sheepishly.

"When Lauren is finished eating, you can throw her trash away for her, and put her tray back," Kelley doles out his consequence, now sounding quite chipper. Discipline is even more fun when she can make a gentleman out of a 9-year-old. She turns and struts back to the stage, proud, as she takes another sip of her coffee. _Not bad, O'Hara_ , she compliments herself. _Not bad at all_. And then it happens. The toe of her shoe catches the leg of one of the tables. Right before she gets to the stage. Right before she was about to, more confidently, reclaim her position beside that cute blonde teacher who is still sitting there, now criss cross applesauce, probably thinking about how well Kelley handled that situation. Probably daydreaming about how Kelley could talk to her like that in bed, all stern and demanding. 

Ok, so maybe Kelley was the one daydreaming.

Kelley goes flying. 

Kelley's coffee goes flying. 

All over Sonnett, who, in spite of being doused with cold coffee, manages to catch Kelley before she hits her head on the edge of the stage. 

FUCK. Like seriously. FUCK. 

Horrific. There's no other way to describe it.

Sonnett stares at her for a beat, wide-eyed, before she starts cracking up. Kelley doesn't know if that's better for her own humiliation or not. But before she knows it, she's laughing too, because Sonnett's laugh is a full belly laugh, and it's absolutely, positively, infectious, like to the core. Sonnett throws her head back. She opens her mouth wide. Her eyes crinkle. "Oh my gosh, are you ok?" she asks between ragged breaths and tears of laughter.

Kelley nods, words escaping her. She knows her face is bright red. Again. But at least this time, it could be because she can't get enough oxygen while she's laughing like this. Kelley realizes the whole cafeteria is full of uproarious laughter now, but as she looks up at Sonnett, she sees her basically quiet the entire student body down with one hand signal. One goddamn hand signal of counting down from five on her fingers was all it took. She didn't even speak. _Hell, she probably could have handled the impending food fight without leaving her perch_ , Kelley thinks. _This woman is impressive_! And then Kelley realizes she hasn't even righted herself yet, Sonnett still supporting her weight. She straightens up, and attempts a very pathetic, very necessary apology. 

"I- uh- I- uh," Oh shit. She can't even speak.

"You tripped," Sonnett grins. 

That's it. That was the word she was going for. Tripped. "Yes. I'm so sorry. I ruined your sweatshirt."

"Guess you'll have to make a trip to UVA with me," Sonnett shrugs sadly. "It was my favorite."

Kelley can't tell if she means it or if it's all for show, but either way, it works. "Yes, just say when, we'll go. I feel soooo awful about this."

Sonnett bursts out laughing. "We're gonna fly across the country? For a sweatshirt?"

"Yes, if that's what we have to do," Kelley promises in a panic.

"You know this is 2020, right? Online shopping has existed for a fat minute." Kelley's face reddens. _Again_. It's really getting old, this uncontrollable blushing. “But yeah, if you wanna see my alma mater, I'm up for it. We can hit up some of my old haunts, you can meet some of my sorority sisters who stayed in the area. It'll be fun. You got Thanksgiving plans?" Sonnett starts laughing all over again.

Kelley snaps out of it. She has to. She (very bravely) grabs Sonnett's hand and drags her out of the cafeteria to the faculty bathroom around the corner. Surprisingly, Sonnett doesn't put up a fight. "Take your sweatshirt off," Kelley commands, trying to sound annoyed in a feeble attempt to hide her own embarrassment. 

"Woah, woah, woah," Sonnett takes a step back, running into the door. "You gotta take me out first before we do this," she insists. Once again, Kelley can't get a read on her, can't tell if she's joking or not. And once again, she feels the heat rising all the way into her ears. Sonnett looks at her skeptically, but complies after a moment of silence. Too bad the coffee has soaked through her sweatshirt and to the US Soccer tee she's wearing underneath. 

Kelley sighs. "That, too." Now Sonnett's eyes go wide. Kelley pulls her Stanford sweatshirt over her head. "Come on, we need to go get our kids."

"Obsessed much?" Sonnett asks playfully, but Kelley misunderstands her and gives her _a look_. "Stanford tee under a Stanford hoodie? Someone's proud."

Kelley sighs and crosses her arms as she waits - maybe a little expectantly - for the odd duck in front of her to undress. She's better one-on-one, Kelley thinks, with no one else around. She's funny when she's not busy being shy. Sonnett meets Kelley's sigh and raises her a groan, but she takes the tee off too. It's not even 8 o'clock, but for what seems like the 47237 time that day, Kelley blushes. 

Blushes at the sight of Sonnett's squared shoulders and narrow waist.

Blushes at arms. Just. Arms.

Blushes at the pale expanse of skin that leads down to...

Blushes at the realization that Sonnett has breasts under the comfortable clothing she wears on a daily basis. Not that Kelley can blame her for her clothing choices; she'd wear comfy stuff too if she had to chase 15 basically overgrown toddlers around. But still...

Blushes at the appearance of Sonnett's nipples, now very visible through her sports bra in the cold bathroom.

Blushes at... well hell, there's some coffee on her sports bra, too.

Sonnett clears her throat, and that's when Kelley finally realizes she's been staring. Well, maybe that's not quite the word. Gawking. Ogling. Leering? What if Sonnett think's shes been leering? Kelley didn't mean it that way, but all of her shame - and manners - seemed to fly out the window the moment the woman before her took off her shirt. "Here," she mumbles, finally looking away as she hands the hoodie to Sonnett.

"It's not really my color," Sonnett complains. 

Kelley thinks about contradicting that statement. Anything could be Sonnett's color with grayish eyes like that. Well, anything except that dumb light gray UVA sweatshirt that's now probably permanently stained with brown splotches. But she refrains. Because the staring was enough for today. Actually, come to think of it, this whole morning has been enough for today and Kelley would just like for it to end. Like now. "I can't help you with the bra situation," Kelley says regretfully, "but, um, I'll wash your stuff for you. I've got a really good, all-natural stain remover at home. It's worth a shot?"

Sonnett shrugs, obviously skeptical, but hands her clothing over anyway.

Kelley reaches around her so she can open the door and they can return to reality. "Don't forget you don't have anything under that sweatshirt and take it off if you get hot later," Kelley reminds Sonnett, trying to sound cool and confident, and well, like herself?

"Don't work too hard on that stain," Sonnett shoots back. "You'll miss out on Virginia if you get it out." She brushes past Kelley and towards the cafeteria, with a look back and a wink as she rounds the corner, leaving Kelley with her mouth agape. 

Christen walks past Kelley, 20 first graders in tow, on the way to her classroom. "Smooth, Kell. I mean, I would have gone about it in another way, but... you got her in your clothes already," she leans in to whisper in Kelley's ear. "She looks _good_ in Cardinal Red."

She does. 

Sonnett looks damn good in Kelley's favorite Stanford hoodie.


	3. Sweatshirts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She had to make up for that ruined sweatshirt somehow.

Kelley can’t sleep. It’s barely 6am. On a Saturday. She should _not_ be awake at this ungodly hour. But she is, and it’s probably because of her neighbor's annoyingly yappy dog, but it could be because of that damn gray hoodie. Well, it’s not gray anymore; it’s splotchy brown. Kelley’s stain remover didn’t work. Nor did the conventional one that she made a late-night run to Target for. 

Giving up on going back to sleep, Kelley pops her laptop open and types "UVA hoodie" into the search bar. The thought of purchasing sweatshirt accented with blue and orange pains her. There are hundreds of UVA hoodies. _Apparently, there are people that love this school... who knew?_ Kelley thinks. She finds the orange and blue annoyingly loud. She also finds that it's hard to locate a gray UVA sweatshirt; specifically _that_ gray sweatshirt. There’s a similar one on eBay. There’s the same one on Poshmark, but it’s too big. Forty minutes later and Kelley is no closer to replacing Sonnett’s sweatshirt than she was yesterday. 

_Fuck_.

She goes for a run. And she spends the whole three miles annoyed at herself for spilling the coffee, and sad that she ruined Emily’s sweatshirt. Because as much as Sonnett joked about it not being a big deal, Kelley gets the feeling that Emily is one of those people who jokes in half-truths. Which means, it is, in fact, Sonnett’s _favorite_ sweatshirt. And Kelley knows exactly what it would feel like to lose her favorite sweatshirt, because for the moment, she's lost it to Sonnett. And it kinda sucks. 

When Kelley gets back from her run, she plops down on her couch. It’s not even 7:30 yet. Still stupid early. She needs coffee. She could make it. Or...

Well Rose is on Sonnett's kindergarten team...

**Kelley** : do you have Sonnett’s number?

 **Rose** : Emily Sonnett?

 **Kelley** : do you know another Sonnett?

 **Rose** : she has a twin.  
but I don’t know her twin. so no.   
why?

_Jesus Christ, there are two of them._

**Kelley** : why are you so nosy?  
I owe her a coffee.

 **Rose** : I heard you owe her a sweatshirt

Rose is so annoying. But she sends Sonnett’s contact info to Kelley.

**Rose** : Try not to spill it this time, loser.

Kelley thinks about replying with the middle finger emoji, but she decides to be an adult. For now.

**Unknown Number** : Hey, it’s Kelley 

**Emily Sonnett** : Kelley who?   
I know a lot of Kelley's.  
I had an ex named Kelley.

Kelley almost falls off the arm of the couch, where she's now perched because she was too nervous to keep lying down. _Did Sonnett just fucking come out? Or does she know exactly who this is and she's just fucking with me?_ Kelley thought Sonnett seemed like she might could be gay, but Kelley also thought that maybe she was just _hoping_ Sonnett was gay...

**Unknown Number** : O’Hara   
from work

 **Emily Sonnett** : Oh. That Kelley. How'd you get my number?

 **Unknown Number** : Sound a little more disappointed about it.

 **Emily Sonnett** : Good morning, Miss Kelley!   
Is that better?

Kelley groans in disgust. She can _hear_ Sonnett saying that in an annoying sing-songy voice, like a child, mocking her.

**Miss Kelley** : I need coffee and I figure I owe you at least that. Cafe Dulce?

 **Emily Sonnett** : Is this because my sweatshirt is ruined forever or because you saw me shirtless yesterday?

 **Miss Kelley** : ... ... ...

 **Emily Sonnett** : Doesn’t matter. Either way, I'm going to need donuts.

 **Miss Kelley** : Absolutely!

 **Emily Sonnett** : which one?

 **Miss Kelley** : USC?

 **Emily Sonnett** : see you in 30

_Fuck_.

This was way too ballsy, Kelley thinks. And too soon. And she hasn't even showered. Kelley runs to her bathroom and takes the fastest shower of her life. She pulls on a pair of short khaki shorts that maybe show off her legs, a tight black tee, and some Birkenstock sandals. She stuffs Sonnett's hoodie and tee into her backpack, grabs her sunglasses, and leaves her hair down to dry.

It's still wet when she arrives... 10 minutes late. Kelley hates being late, but she didn't think this through. If she had thought this through, she never would have done it in the first place. But also, she certainly wouldn’t have been late.

As she approaches the storefront, she spies Sonnett sitting at a table outside. With a puppy sporting a pink collar. She's _so_ cute. Sonnett is, too.

”Are you always late when you ask someone to go out?” Sonnett asks, looking up at Kelley. Kelley can’t get a read on her behind her sunglasses. 

“Do you always give your dog bottled water?” Kelley chirps back, as Sonnett recaps the bottle she just used to fill the dog’s bowl. Sonnett shrugs. “No, I’m usually early,” Kelley says adamantly. “I just forgot I hadn’t taken a shower yet when I texted you.”

“Had to wash the smell of stale beer and, um, other things off, yeah?” Sonnett stands up, placing her big sunglasses on top of her head. Kelley watches Sonnett’s eyes flick from her lips to her hair and she suddenly feels self-conscious. That closed-lip grin that shows off one dimple, makes Kelley's heart flutter, and Sonnett looks so good in her ripped blue jeans, gray crop top, and perfectly white adidas shoes. Her hair is pulled up into a messy bun, which it never is at work. She reaches out like she's going to shake Kelley's hand, and it's so awkward. Kelley gives her a look. And then a hug. Because she _did_ see Sonnett shirtless yesterday, so they should at least be past the point of a weird handshake. Besides, they work together, so a hug seems... normal?

Kelley can tell it makes Sonnett instantly nervous. She doesn’t hug back. Her easy smile fades, her eyes drop, and her hand shoots to the back of her neck, rubbing. It's strange, this dynamic between them. How Sonnett is one notch away from cocky sometimes and then other times...

”No,” Kelley blushes, realizing she hasn’t had a fun night in months. “Just went for a run this morning.” Kelley focuses her attention on the puppy as a distraction. She’s standing in the chair with her paws on the table. She doesn't particularly like dogs, but this dog is kinda cute, with her adorable face and perky ears. And she's Sonnett's dog, so... "Who's this beauty?" she asks, squatting down next to the puppy. 

"That's Bagel," Sonnett says, swelling with pride. "She's the goodest girl." Sonnett's eyes brighten as soon as she gets to talk about Bagel. Kelley notices that she smiles with her eyes. Lindsey used to smile with her eyes.

 _Fuck_.

"Seems like it," Kelley muses, trying to push that thought back from whence it came. She pats Bagel's head as she sits politely, with expectant eyes, waiting for a treat. 

Sonnett picks Bagel up, sets her on the patio, and backties her to the leg of the table. "Shall we?" she gestures to the door. It’s then, following Sonnett, that Kelley sees the tattoo on the nape of her neck - a simple cross - and Kelley realizes that’s why Sonnett’s hair is probably always down at work. It's simplicity, it's location, with wispy golden curls surrounding it, is fucking hot, but maybe it would draw too many questions from five-year-olds. Sonnett opens the door for Kelley and then follows her inside. At the counter, Sonnett orders a flat white and two donuts - one topped with Fruity Pebbles and the other filled with chocolate and topped with crushed Oreos, drawing a raised eyebrow, but not a word, from Kelley. She adds a couple of dog biscuits for Bagel. Kelley orders an oat milk flat white and a simple maple bar. Before Kelley can even get her wallet out of her bag, Emily has tapped her card and paid for their breakfast. 

"Hey, I said I owed you and now..." Kelley sounds a little exasperated. She fears this means she'll have to do this all over again as a way of apologizing for destroying Sonnett's sweatshirt. And for making her strip. Which doesn't sound like that bad of an idea, but Kelley's just not sure about any of this yet.

"I drank my coffee, remember? You were the one who spilled all of yours," Sonnett chuckles. And then, as she holds the door open for Kelley with her hip so they can take their order back outside she adds, "I feel like it was my fault that you spilled your coffee anyway, so I owed you. I woulda asked you to coffee eventually. You just called first.”

Kelley quirks her brow, confused.

"You were looking at me. I distracted you and you tripped." There it is. There's the cockiness.

“I was _not_ looking at you,” Kelley insists. Sonnett’s eyes sparkle. Ok, maybe she was looking at Sonnett, but Sonnett doesn’t need to know that. Kelley sighs, annoyed at the path this conversation is headed down.

If she was intending for Sonnett to get the hint and cut her shit out, it doesn't work. "You know," Sonnett continues, "It's Saturday. Last night, I could have gone out to a bar, met a hot chick, gone home with her, and I still would have been in bed with her when you texted me this morning. Who texts so early on a _weekend_?" Her eyes crinkle as she grins at Kelley.

Kelley blinks at her. She's starting to figure Sonnett out. When Kelley's nervous, Sonnett feeds off of it, her confidence shining through. When Kelley is perfectly comfortable, outgoing even, it takes Sonnett by surprise. She can play this game. "What's her name?" Kelley asks, unbothered.

"I forgot it, um, in my drunken state last night," Sonnett shoots back.

”Well were you sad when you had to sneak outta there this morning to come meet me? Did you get her number at least?”

Sonnett chuffs. "Nah, she's not the one." And then she becomes more serious. "You know, I wasn't- I don't, I don't sleep around. I was at home when you texted me."

"Mmm?" Kelley raises her eyebrows. 

"Alone. I was home alone," Emily adds for emphasis. 

"Figures. You have that cross tattoo." 

Emily reaches back and touches it uncomfortably. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing. Just wouldn't expect someone with a religious tattoo to be hooking up with random strangers. I like it though. It's tasteful. You shouldn't cover it all the time."

"Yeah, but work..." Emily trails off and Kelley just shrugs.

"Why?" Kelley asks, changing the subject and drawing a confused look from Emily.

"Why do I have a cross tattoo, or why was I alone?" Emily asks for clarification.

"The latter."

"Because I haven't met anyone since I moved out here this past summer." She sounds almost defensive. "Why are you alone?"

"What makes you think I am?" Kelley questions wryly.

"Rose said you're single," Emily mumbles, uncomfortable again.

So Emily asked Rose about her. Interesting. She wants to ask what else Rose told her. Or what else Emily has been curious about, but she holds back. Kelley takes a long sip of coffee, sizing Emily up. She brings her iPad out of her bag and sets it on the table. "I couldn't find your sweatshirt. I looked forever. Do you want to see if there's another one I can replace it with?" She scoots her chair closer to Emily and Emily's eyes narrow a bit, but Emily leans in, and her knee knocks Kelley's. Kelley resists the urge to jump back and instead begins scrolling and talking, rambling really, about all the differences, both big and small, that she's found in all of the sweatshirts. Out of the corner of her eye, she can see Emily is smirking at her more than she's looking at the screen, like she knows how uncomfortable it's making Kelley. "In conclusion," Kelley eventually says, taking a breath, "I can't find your sweatshirt."

"Not surprising," Emily says, finally turning in her chair just enough that her knee is no longer touching Kelley's. And it's so matter-of-fact that Kelley does a double-take, but Emily doesn't elaborate. "You didn't answer my question earlier." Kelley cocks her head to the side, having already forgotten. "Why are you single?" 

"Oh. Um..." she thought Emily had forgotten. "My ex and I broke up last winter, when she moved." She wants to add it's complicated. Really. Fucking. Complicated. But she doesn't know Emily well enough and doesn't feel like talking about it. Again. Because everyone tells her the same damn thing about Lindsey and frankly, she's sick of hearing it. 

Mainly, she’s sick of hearing it because she _knows_ it, everything Christen has said aloud to her and everything Tobin has said through just a look. 

* * *

She dated Lindsey for years. Dated doesn't seem like quite the right word since they lived together, but nothing else really fits that well either. They were never quite solid - not solid enough at least - always falling back into the tumultuous parts of their relationship before too long. But when they were good, they were _good_. So good that Kelley can’t remember what they used to fight about, though she’s certain Christen would be happy to remind her. She’s not too keen on remembering though. It’s better to forget Lindsey altogether, probably, especially after how it ended. Especially now that they’re 1100 miles apart. 

Except most of the time, she can’t forget. 

She tries, and she's good at work, but then she goes home at night, alone, and she remembers what it felt like with Lindsey’s weight shifting on the bed next to her as she’d toss and turn. And Lindsey’s weight _on_ her. She can’t forget what Lindsey smelled like when she would snuggle into her neck, that little notch where her lips or her nose fit perfectly. She can’t forget Lindsey’s laugh, the way it would fill the room. She still has Lindsey's favorite sweatshirt, that black Balenciaga one; she can't bring herself to get rid of it. That sweatshirt haunts her. It's probably why it feels like Lindsey's ghost is still hanging out in their bedroom sometimes. 

* * *

Emily’s the first person that’s made Kelley forget, even if it was just for a second. And of course, Emily is the one to make her remember again, too. But Emily doesn’t push for more of an explanation, and Kelley is thankful to be able to leave it at that. Kelley reaches into her bag and pulls out Emily’s hoodie and tee. “Shirt’s good as new,” she says guiltily, knowing that it's because it's a dark blue shirt, “but this is the best I could do with your sweatshirt.” She hands them both to Emily, and looks down sheepishly, petting Bagel to try and deflect some of her embarrassment. “Soccer fan?” she asks, referring to Emily’s USWNT shirt. 

“Yep, something like that,” Emily says quietly before changing the subject. “Smells like you. Or your detergent, I guess. Smells like your Stanford hoodie.” Emily blushes. Finally.

“Speaking of, where is _my_ hoodie?” Kelley asks, trying to ignore Emily's comment. But it makes her kind of wish she knew what Emily's sweatshirt smelled like, before it smelled like coffee. 

“My place. You can come get it if you want. But I was thinking of holding it hostage until you replace mine.”

“And if I can’t? Replace yours I mean?”

Emily shrugs. “There’s always UVA.”

Kelley holds eye contact with her. She doesn’t know if this is flirting. The invite to Emily’s place was _smooth_. The comment about the hoodie smelling like Kelley was cute. The repeated requests to go on a cross-country trip are starting to sound more like genuine offers, not jokes. But Kelley really doesn’t know anymore. Maybe she doesn't want to know.

She tries to find some of her bravado and changes the subject again. She's good at that. “What’s your story, Emily Sonnett?” she asks, leaning back in her chair. 

Emily matches her body language, but actually tips her chair, balancing on the back two legs. “Grew up in Georgia, moved to-”

“Shut up!” Kelley interrupts excitedly, taking Emily aback. “I’m from Georgia.”

Emily grins at the realization that they have something in common. “Marietta.”

“Peachtree City. No way! Small world.”

Emily’s about to say something when Bagel starts barking under the table. “She’s like a child,” Emily says. “She has food and water. Maybe she needs to potty. Or maybe we’re boring her.” She stands, looking apologetically at Kelley. “I should go.”

Kelley can’t help but be disappointed. She was having a good time – genuinely – with this woman who she’s basically worked side-by-side with this year and never actually knew. She thinks about offering to take a quick walk with Emily and her puppy, but she figures she’s monopolized enough of Emily’s morning as it is. 

“Walk you to your car?” Emily offers and Kelley nods. Emily hangs back when Kelley’s pace slows as she nears her car. She offers up that close-lipped smile with the dimple, and a little wave. “See ya Monday, Miss Kelley,” Emily says, her Southern drawl popping out for the first time. It's soft and slow, liquid almost. It sounds nothing like Kelley expected it to sound, and instantly reminds her of home. For the first time in a long time, she realizes she misses it. Emily spins around as Kelley smiles at her, and all Kelley can do is watch her walk off towards her car.


	4. Soccer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can a playground pick-up game turn into a date?

Monday comes and goes. And so does Tuesday. And Wednesday. It feels to Kelley like Sonnett is avoiding her. It shouldn't feel like that, because nothing about Sonnett's routine has changed. She's playing freeze tag with her kids everyday during recess, and Kelley sees her. But given the fact that they had coffee together over the weekend, Kelley expected...

Well, she doesn't quite know what she expected. Maybe that Sonnett would stop by her room with her hoodie. Or just to say hi. Or that Sonnett would sit by her in the faculty meeting this afternoon, because Mrs. Lloyd is so boring and so annoying, and Kelley thinks it would be kinda fun to make a drinking game (with water or a PM coffee) out of how many time Mrs. Lloyd says "and also" and "additionally," and "as well," because it borders on excessive. Or maybe Kelley was hoping that Sonnett would have asked her out by now. Then again, Kelley is capable of talking to Sonnett, if she wants to. 

And she wants to.

She's sitting with Christen in the shade on the playground when she decides to do something about Sonnett not interacting with her. "Watch this," she says confidently, pushing herself off the bench. Christen gives a little excited clap before trying to catch Tobin's eye so she can watch what's about to unfold, too.

Kelley saunters over to the grass field and stands next to Sonnet, who is frozen and currently waiting for someone to unfreeze her. "Hey," Kelley says, sounding more upbeat that she meant to; she wanted to sound at least a little chill. Kelley waits for eye contact that doesn't come because Sonny takes being frozen literally. Kelley exhales loudly through her nose and moves around in front of Emily so she can see her eyes. It bothers her to not be able to look at someone when she's talking to them, an incessant need to gauge people's reactions in the moment. "Bring your soccer ball out tomorrow and we'll do a little 1v1 for the kiddos. What do ya think?"

Before she can answer, Sonnett's been unfrozen by a munchkin and has taken off in a full sprint to escape the evil tagger who was right behind. Kelley gets tagged. Hard. She's been fucking frozen by a 5-year-old and she doesn't have the heart to tell the kid she's not even playing. She turns and looks helplessly at Press, who just shrugs. Kelley sighs and rolls her eyes. But her mood changes quickly, and before she knows it, she's smiling because she's watching Emily weave in and out, unfreezing as many of her students as she can, while simultaneously dodging the pack of taggers after her. She nears Kelley, and Kelley watches her dramatically pretend to escape before letting the smallest girl in the class freeze her. Right next to Kelley. She lets out a huff, pretending to be frustrated as the girl moves on to find others. 

"Hey," she says, a bit out of breath. "Sorry about that. Game was about to be over. Had to go unfreeze some kiddos. But we've got a minute." Her sentences are choppy as she tries to catch her breath. "Whew," she breathes heavily again. "What's up?"

"Just wanted to know if you wanted to play some soccer tomorrow? I played in college and-"

Emily and Kelley have just be unfrozen by a super helpful child. Emily reaches up and grabs Kelley's bicep. "Don't move. If you pretend you're frozen still, they'll leave you alone." She smirks a little, proud that she's outsmarted children. "So yeah, we can play. I'll bring the ball out. Text me and remind me tomorrow, yeah?"

Kelley nods. 

"Miss Sonny, you're unfrozen, run!" yells that same super helpful child. 

"Shit," Sonnett mutters under her breath. "They're gonna get us. Run!"

And before Kelley realizes it and can stop it from happening, she's letting Sonny pull her by the hand out of the reach of an oncoming child, and they're taking off running. It's not that bad. Kinda nice even. Emily changes the game, the two of them versus Sonnett's class. Kelley finds herself laughing at work more than she has in a long time, trying to make sure the kids think they have a chance, but never getting tagged when Emily is already frozen so the game can keep going. It's silly, and touching Emily's hand repeatedly, even in the form of a high five to unfreeze her, well, that's not the worst thing ever. 

As it nears time to go back inside, Emily only has to ask her kids once to line up behind their line leader. She reaches her hand out towards Kelley, who grabs it, and Emily pulls her in to a one-armed half hug. "Thanks for playing," she breathes into Kelley's ear. 

Kelley freezes all over again. For real this time. She can feel Emily's lips on her ear. She can hear her own heartbeat pounding in her ears, but they're so close together that she can feel Sonnett's pounding against her chest. She can feel the heat radiating off their bodies. She knows it's all from the exertion of the game, but that doesn't change what it does to Kelley. She catches Emily's eye as she pulls away. Emily's smiling with her eyes again. Her face is red and sweaty and beautiful. All Kelley can manage is a nod before she turns and heads back towards Christen. 

"See ya tomorrow," Sonnett calls after her, and Kelley throws a wave over her shoulder.

Christen is giving her a look when she makes it back to the table. "Don't," Kelley shakes her head, not able to make eye contact.

"When you said watch, I didn't think that's what I was going to watch. It's not like you to play with kids. Maybe you should play with your _own_ class sometime. Before they get jealous," Christen suggests.

"I didn't go over there to play tag," Kelley grumbles as they follow their kids inside. "I went to ask her if she wanted to play 1v1 tomorrow. And then that happened."

"Oh?" Christen asks, stretching out the word. "And?"

"And she's going to see just how good I am tomorrow. I'll impress her with my moves," Kelley laughs, wiggling her eyebrows and bumping Christen's shoulder. She draws an eye roll from her friend. 

"Uh-huh. I bet. You've done a great job of impressing her so far. Ruined clothing. Coffee date she paid for. You're on a roll, Kell," Christen says sarcastically. "But seriously, I'm proud of you. For starting to put yourself out there again." 

Kelley just shrugs as they head their separate ways. It doesn't feel like she's putting herself out there, not really at least. Not yet. She wants to. She just wants to ask the woman out on a date and make it clear that it's a date, not an apology. But for now, everything feels fine. Good even. Emily's funny. Genuine. So unapologetically herself. It's getting easier to talk to her.

* * *

It's Friday and Kelley feels like she's been waiting for forever until it's almost recess time and she can text Emily.

**Miss Kelley** : Don't forget the ball. I know you're afraid to lose and "I forgot" was going to be your excuse.

 **Emily Sonnett** : Haha !!

Wasn't going to forget.

. . .

 **Miss Kelley** : You told me to remind you.

 **Emily Sonnett** : Just wanted to see your name pop up on my phone. 

**Miss Kelley** : . . . 

**Emily Sonnett** : Also, I don't lose.

 **Miss Kelley** : Is that so? Bet?

 **Emily Sonnett** : Loser buys drinks?

 **Miss Kelley** : Tonight?

 **Emily Sonnett** : Yeah, you got plans?

 **Miss Kelley** : Maybe

Kelley doesn't have plans. Obviously, she doesn't have plans. But she doesn't want Sonnett knowing this, knowing how lonely her Friday nights are. Although, she probably already knows this thanks to Rose. And the fact that Sonnett doesn't respond is troubling because it's unreadable. 

Kelley turns back to her class, the smile now wiped from her face. She preps them for what's about to happen - a very important competition against Kinder. They are to sit on the side and cheer for her - loudly - when she scores. They are to stay off the field and keep their hands to themselves and dogpile her when she wins. They head outside.

Sonnett is already there. Her class is scattered around the playground. She's set up cones a few feet away from each post of both goals, and is standing in the middle of the field juggling a ball. She looks up, spotting Kelley, and traps the ball cleanly. With a whistle, her kiddos are crowding around her getting instructions, and then sitting together off to the side. Kelley's class joins them. 

"Hey," Emily grins, squinting in the sun. It's the first time Kelley's seen her all day. She's got a UVA tee on, apparently more than capable of matching Kelley's endless supply of Standford apparel. Her eyes are bluer against the backdrop of the clear sky today. Her face is relaxed, and she shakes her hair out, pulling it back into a ponytail. Not as cute as the bun, but it'll do.

"Hey yourself," Kelley smiles back. She's confident now. Cocky almost. Just like she was when she played.

"You really got plans tonight?" Emily almost seems a little bummed by it. It lights a fire in Kelley.

"When I win, I will," Kelley winks, and Emily just drops her head and shakes it. But Kelley can see the corners of her mouth turning up in a smile.

"Made the goals smaller, since we don't have keepers. First to 5?" Kelley nods. Emily backs away from her. "You can have ball first." She plays the ball to Kelley's feet. 

Kelley hesitates, and then she's off like she never stopped playing, taking small touches on the ball as she bears down towards Emily. It takes Emily by surprise. She doesn't react until Kelley's almost upon her. Kelley pulls the ball back, and Emily bites, stabbing at it. With one touch, Kelley pushes it past her, hammering it into the back of the net, harder than she needed to, for effect. She winks at Emily again, and raises her hands into the air. The kids are cheering, and she distinctly hears "Miss Kelley" repeatedly from kids that aren't hers. She looks back at Emily who's trying to keep a straight face as she shrugs. "O'Hara's a mouthful for them," she calls over her shoulder as she shags the ball from the back of the net. "Make it, take it?" she calls to Kelley who's back on the other side of the field. Without waiting for an answer, she passes the ball to Kelley. She waits until Kelley nears and then drops into a defensive stance, jockeying back, letting Kelley work as she watches the ball. As soon as Kelley steps over the ball, Emily takes it off her foot. She takes one small touch to settle, one long touch that she chases, easily creating separation between her and Kelley, and a third to pass the ball into the goal. She grabs it out of the net and drops it at Kelley's feet. "1-1." she says quietly as she jogs past. The kids are now cheering for Miss Sonny. Kelley plays the ball into Emily who collects it easily and pushes it forward. This time, she megs Kelley, and finishes with a cheeky chip. Emily brings the ball back again with an apologetic look on her face. 

"Ok. Yeah, I gave you that. Let's go." Kelley shakes it off and plays the ball to Sonnet again. Sonnett takes one controlling touch, looks up, and hits the ball over Kelley. Kelley turns and watches it bounce into the back of the net. The kids are going wild now, cheering for Miss Sonny. Even Kelley's class. Kelley turns back and looks at Emily, who raises her hands helplessly, silently signifying that she couldn't pass that chance up. "Game on," Kelley yells from across the field. And then quietly, just to herself, "Come on, O'Hara. You were the leading scorer on your team. You're better than this. Let's fucking go!" This time, she closes Sonnett quickly, maybe too quickly. Sonnett pushes the ball past her, but it goes wide, giving Kelley time to recover. She puts her head down and digs in, chasing back, and cleanly slide tackles the ball away from Sonnett's feet. It rolls out of bounds and stops near Christen. 

Emily reaches her hand out to help Kelley up, staring at her grass-stained jeans. Her eyes are wide. "Nice tackle," she says with admiration. 

Kelley takes Emily's hand and lets herself be helped to her feet. She didn't really think that through. She doesn't have other jeans to change into. It was just instinct. Too long of a touch presented the perfect opportunity to stop Emily's attack. It's just... she hates to lose. So much. Even if it seems she might get to have drinks with Emily regardless of how this ends. 

Christen looks from Kelley to Emily, shocked at how serious this little pick-up game has become, then taps the ball to Emily. Emily passes it to Kelley. "Clean tackle. Your ball. Still 3-1," she adds jogging backwards to give herself a cushion. Kelley closes it quickly. She cuts to get Emily wrong-footed, then spins around her. She's off-balance when she takes the shot, but it makes it just inside the cone. She's back in it. 

Until she's not. She takes a bad touch and Emily pounces on it, finishing a one-touch shot from across the field. 4-2. And on the next possession, Kelley goes for a tackle again, seeing as how it worked out so well the first time. Emily sees it coming from a mile away, sees it in her stance. Sees it in her eyes. She purposely touches the ball to the side and as Kelley's leg shoots out, she leaps over it, landing, taking a centering touch on the ball, and passing it into the back of the net. She leaps in the air with a quiet fist pump.

Before Kelley can even process that she lost, more than a dozen munchkins are surrounding her, hugging her legs, tugging at her hands, and all she can hear is a cacophony of "Good job, Miss Kelley!" "We're proud of you!" "Good game!" "You'll get it next time, Miss Kelley, don't worry." It's hard to keep that angry fire burning inside her with all the hugs she's getting. She looks over them across the field to where Emily is standing, one foot on the ball, with a proud smile on her face, and Kelley knows it's because she's proud of her kids, not because she won. There's no arrogance in that smile, no cockiness. It's nothing like the smile Kelley would have on her face if she had beaten Emily.

Emily makes her way over, and the kids shift to her. After a minute, she shoos them away back to the playground. She looks shy, intimidated now, despite her decisive victory. She drops her eyes and rubs her neck again. When she finally looks up, still hanging onto the back of her neck, and squinting into the sun, one eye closed, the last bit of frustration Kelley was feeling starts to melt away. Emily lets go of her neck, and reaches her hand out to Kelley. "Good game," she says gently, and Kelley gives her a weak smile. 

"You're really good, Sonnett," Kelley offers in return, but Emily looks past her, into the distance, almost wistfully, ignoring the comment. "You trained them to do that," Kelley changes the subject because Emily was clearly starting to get uncomfortable.

"They're not dogs."

"Well, yeah, but you know what I mean."

"I teach them how to respond in different situations. So I told them that I was going to play a game with Miss Kelley today and that they should cheer whenever anything good happened. But that the most important thing was for them to make sure whomever lost still felt good about themselves. So we talked about what to do when someone's sad." Kelley looks at her with admiration. "I just want them to be good people," Emily mumbles, embarrassed by the attention on her now.

"So," Kelley says as matter-of-factly as she can as they start to walk off the field, "pick you up at 7:30?"

Emily turns to her, a genuine look of shock on her face. "I thought you had plans?"

"With you! I have plans with you!" Kelley laughs. She likes this version of Emily. She likes the confident, funny version, too, but this off-balance one is super cute.

Kelley's working with her kids on prefixes and suffixes when she feels her phone vibrate in her back pocket. She gets a thrill from it that she hasn't felt in a long time. She used to buzz when she'd get a text in the middle of the workday, knowing it was from Lindsey. Then she started to dread those texts. Then those texts slowly stopped. When Christen and Tobin and Rose want to talk to her during the day, they do it over IM or Skype. She knows it's Emily without even looking, and she resists the urge to check until the kids are working independently. As much as Kelley acts like she doesn't give a shit what her students do on the playground, she absolutely cares in the classroom, if for no other reason than she wants a 100% passing rate on the state-mandated tests her students have to take in the Spring. She's no less competitive in her classroom than she was on the field. When she finally sits down at her desk and pulls her phone out, her suspicions are confirmed; Emily's texted her address. Kelley beams.

 **Miss Kelley** : Don't you have kids to be watching right now? Couldn't wait to text me your address, huh?

 **Emily Sonnett** : This is kinder. They nap still.

Also, where are you taking me?

 **Miss Kelley** : Ugh, can't this be a surprise?

 **Emily Sonnett** : It can. Can also guess and wear the completely inappropriate thing for where we're going if I don't know.

 **Miss Kelley** : Dive bar

 **Emily Sonnett** : See, was going to go with something formal. Long dress. Heels. Details are important, Kell.

Kelley gets that good sinking feeling in her gut, the roller coaster feeling. Emily's never called her that. She wants to _hear_ her say it. Kelley thinks about her next text, wanting to mirror Sonnett's language.

**Miss** **Kelley** : Hey, Em. Can this be a real date? Like you'll let me pay this time?

Kelley knows that over text is not the best way to ask that question, but she didn't have the guts to out on the field, and she doesn't know if she'll have the guts to later when she picks Emily up. It's so much easier to be brave over text.

 **Pressy** : This is not a work IM convo.

So. You lost. 

And I was going to ask if you had calmed down, but you didn't look very angry out there when it was over. 

What did you do with Kelley? 

Or should I be asking Sonnett what she did to you?

 **KO** : We made a bet. I was going to win either way so.

 **Pressy** : Do tell.

**Emily Sonnett** : You can pay.

 **Miss Kelley** : I have a hot date. Tonight.

 **Emily Sonnett** : Can do earlier if that helps you fit both of us in. Happy Hour?

_Oh fuck_! Typical Kelley. Responding to a text by texting the last person who showed up in her messages.

**Miss Kelley** : Shit. That wasn't for you.

. . . 

**KO** : I have a hot date tonight. Drinks. Consequence of losing.

 **Pressy** : You lost on purpose?

 **KO** : You always said I had game.

 **Pressy** : You didn't lose on purpose. You were busting your ass out there. But good for you!

**Miss Kelley** : But it was about you. You're my only date.

Tonight.

Kelley doesn't want to make Emily feel insecure, but she doesn't want to seem too interested either. It's a fine line to walk, and Kelley doesn't know how to balance on it very well. Emily doesn't respond, and now Kelley's the one who feels off-balance. 


	5. Shots

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kelley might be the worst dater in the history of daters.

“You’re early,” Emily says flatly, opening her front door, and not smiling, because she’s not ready yet. She’s been trying on outfits for the last half hour and none of them work and she was about to just change into black jeans and a white tee. But then her doorbell rang.

It’s not exactly the greeting Kelley was expecting. “Well, you gave me shit for being late last time so,” Kelley shrugs. 

Emily sighs. “Come in. I have to go change.”

Kelley catches her hand. “Don’t. You look cute.” Emily’s wearing cuffed olive pants, a black adidas tee, a jean jacket, and a beanie. “I mean, you can if you want,” Kelley backtracks, “but I like what you’re wearing. It’s trendy.” She gives Emily’s hand a reassuring squeeze and it seems to settle her. Well, it makes her blush, but she fights the urge for yet another wardrobe change. “C’mon,” Kelley tugs her. And suddenly, a wave of nervousness washes over Kelley again, because this woman hasn’t even confirmed it’s an actual date, and here Kelley is holding her hand. She drops it. Doesn’t open the car door for Emily, and then wants to kick herself for not as she rounds to her side. She feels Emily’s eyes on her as she slips into her seat. She turns, and she’s right; Emily’s staring at her, her expression unreadable. “What?” Kelley huffs finally.

“Some date,” Emily looks out her window to hide her smirk as she sees Kelley’s face drop. “You ask me out and then can’t even open my door for me. You can't possibly be from Georgia with those manners.” Kelley’s stammering makes it impossible for Emily to keep a straight face for long. Soon, she’s bursting out laughing, and Kelley’s inability to speak is worsening by the second. “I’m kidding, Kell.”

There it is. Kelley's been waiting to hear Sonnett say that and it sounds even better rolling off her lips than Kelley could have ever imagined. 

Emily slides her hand into Kelley’s which has been flailing in the air because she talks with her hands. Their fingers end up intertwined resting on Kelley’s lap, and Emily flashes this smug smile as Kelley’s words fade. She bites her lips and raises her eyebrows at Kelley as if to say, “What? Why’d you stop talking?” but her smugness fades to this soft grin that makes Kelley melt. “Why are you so nervous?” Emily asks.

Kelley would be annoyed by the boldness of it, except the way Emily says it – gently – leaves Kelley thinking she doesn’t mean anything by it. Emily’s tone stops her in her tracks when she’s about to protest. It makes her think twice about saying “I’m not,” which would be her typical go-to response. It makes her want to tell Emily the truth.

I’m not supposed to have to be on a date.

This wasn’t supposed to be my life.

I don’t know how to do this.

I don’t know if I _can_ do this. 

I like you, and I don’t know what to do about it.

Because what if I don’t trust me or you enough to _let_ myself like you.

Instead, she just mumbles. “You. You make me nervous.” Emily flashes that grin again, squeezes Kelley’s hand, and goes back to looking out the window.

Inside Hank’s, Emily and Kelley grab a couple of seats at the bar. “What can I get you?” Kelley asks.

“Hanger 24 Pugachev’s Cobra. Draft,” Emily says and Kelley gives her a look of confusion. “What?”

“I don’t even know what you just said. How do you even know they have that?”

“This is my place,” Emily shrugs. “I thought we came here because you asked Rose.”

“I didn’t ask Rose anything. We came here because I told you we were going to a dive bar and then I realized I didn’t know any dive bars so I googled dive bars,” Kelley give a nervous half-laugh.

Emily laughs, too. “All right. I thought it was cute that you took the time to find out what I like, but random luck works too. Hey, Ash,” she says with a nod and Kelley turns to find a tall bartender with blonde hair and a bunch of tattoos smiling at them.

“What’s up, Sonnett?” Ash asks, placing a beer in front of Emily, like she already knows her order, and a coaster in front of Kelley. “What can I get you?” she asks Kelley.

“Um,” Kelley hesitates, still shocked about the turn of events, “Shot of Jameson. Thanks.”

“Make it a Pickleback,” Emily tells Ash, and Kelley makes a face. “What? It’ll prevent a hangover, since you’re starting off so… strong.” Kelley begrudgingly chases her whiskey with the pickle juice, and makes the same disgusted face again. Emily laughs. “You’re very judgy. But you can thank me in the morning.”

“So… I haven’t talked to Rose about you at all, but it seems like you’ve asked her about me,” Kelley starts in.

“Hey, I just needed to know if you were gay,” Sonnett says defensively. But Rose really is the best person to be friends with at work. She seems to know everything about everybody. “I don’t make a habit out of hitting on straight women. Also, I needed to know if you were taken.”

Kelley signals Ash for another round, but Sonnett shakes her head. She downs the whiskey and pickle juice, then rests her head on her hand, staring Sonnett down. “Have you hit on me?”

Sonnett shrugs noncommittally. “There’s that judgement again. But you keep asking me out, so obviously I’m doing something right.”

Kelley changes the subject. “How’d you end up out here? Do you miss Georgia?”

“My first career didn’t work out as planned,” Sonnett says vaguely. “But I had spent a lot of it out here, and well… this suits me better. I miss the formality of the South. The manners. The way people interact.” Kelley gives her a quizzical look, because Sonnett doesn’t seem like the formal type. At all. “Not all the time, that’s exhausting,” she explains. “But in spurts. Like, ok. Everybody has always called me Sonny, so I’m gonna have the kids call me Miss Sonny, like, cause it's basically my first name. Just like I think your kids should call you Miss Kelley. Because what did you grow up calling all your friends’ moms? Miss and then whatever their first name was, right? I miss the ‘yes, sirs’ and the ‘no,ma’ams’ and the full table settings for Sunday suppers, the- ”

“Church hats?” Kelley interjects.

“Fuck church hats,” Sonnett laughs. “But, and I used to complain to my mom about this all the time, the handwritten thank you notes. We don’t teach cursive here! What are we even doing?” 

Kelley throws up her hands in mock disbelief.

Sonnett ignores her and continues. “And the food. Oh my goodness I miss the food. There’s not eve a Waffle House out here! Like, ok, LA’s good for photogenic trendy food if you wanna put it on the gram, but I mean real, artery-clogging, southern food.”

“You’re not trapped here because of some woman. What are you still doing out here then?”

“Oh, you know. Georgia’s not the best place for people like us.”

“Well, yeah, but Atlanta’s not bad.”

“No, and I will go back, probably. Eventually. I’d raise kids back home for sure over out here because where else are they gonna be raised right? Like that, I mean. But what a chore that’ll be to make sure they don’t internalize all the prejudice of the people down there. And oh my God, can you imagine me teaching there? I’d bring up two mommies and two daddies in the family unit and I wouldn’t have a job anymore. I’ll have to have a third career planned out before I can move back.”

"So you're out here to find a wife to take back home?" Kelley asks, and Emily's facial expression says that's not exactly a bad idea. Kelley’s about to ask what her first career was, but Sonnett’s talking again. “Do you miss it? Would you go back?”

“I miss my family,” Kelley admits. But the ocean is right here. I won’t go back til I’m too old to surf. One day I’ll make my way back.”

“You surf, no way! I’ve always wanted to learn,” Sonnett exclaims. “I think I’m gonna be so good at it. Stop with the shots so you can take me tomorrow.” Kelley laughs at her excitement and orders a beer. 

She feels better. This whole date feels better now. Sonnett’s easy to talk to. Or listen to at least. Because she talks a lot. She has dozens of questions about surfing and she’s roped Kelley into telling her surfing stories and promising to let her borrow a wetsuit, so Kelley figures it can’t be going too bad. And it’s nice to have someone to talk to who’s interested in what she's passionate about. Because Lindsey had absolutely no interest in surfing and wouldn’t even try to learn. And she always complained about going home with Kelley to Georgia for the holidays. She hated every minute of it. Kelley didn’t even go back to Georgia for Christmas last year because she wanted to avoid the fighting. A lot of good that did.

 _Lindsey_. 

Maybe there is life after Lindsey. Maybe Christen is right. Kelley hasn’t thought about her ex since she downed those two shots in an attempt to steel her nerves for this date.

And her positive thoughts are further bolstered as two men make their way over to Kelley and Sonnett, and one of them rests his hand on the back of Kelley’s chair. He hardly gets his offer to buy them drinks out before Sonnett’s hand is on Kelley’s knee, fingers teasing up her inner thigh. “We’re good,” she tells the men without taking her eyes off Kelley. “We’re so good," she says, smiling at Kelley. That’s all it takes. Emily throws a "Thanks, though," out after the men as they walk away. As soon as they leave, Sonnett’s hand is back in her own lap and she’s mumbling an apology and acting all shy again and Kelley doesn’t understand why. “I don’t know how out you are. Maybe you don’t want strangers knowing you’re gay.”

Lindsey would have taken the men up on their offer, politely chatted with them without even flinching at a hand on the back of a chair, or a shoulder, for that matter. And it would have turned into an argument later when Kelley brought up how she felt about men touching Lindsey. Lindsey’s professional image was always the most important thing to her, so Kelley’s navigated her life only semi-out. Emily's initial reaction, coupled with the fact that she wanted to know how Kelley felt about it, is refreshing. “Nah, you’re good,” Kelley assures her. Maybe she didn’t need those drinks after all.

“All right, tell me about this ex of yours that moved," Sonnett wants to know.

Or... maybe Kelley did need those drinks. Plus more. She gestures to Ash for two more shots. Sonnett slides hers back to Kelley. “Nope,” she shakes her head and finally finishes her first beer, “but I’ll have one more beer, Ash.”

Kelley takes her first shot. “Not appropriate first date conversation, Sonnett.”

“Hmm,” Sonnett thinks about it for a moment. “Second date. Third if you count me undressing in front of you.”

“That does not count,” Kelley argues.

“I feel like it should absolutely count for something,” Sonnett shoots back. “Maybe double.”

“You had a sports bra on.”

“I don’t think it made much difference to you.”

Kelley’s cheeks burn and it’s not from the alcohol. She regains her composure. “Why don’t you tell me about _your_ exes? Start with Kelley,” Kelley deflects and Sonnett sputters.

“I don’t have an ex named Kelley. And if I did, she wouldn’t spell her name with an extra e anyway. I just wanted to make sure you knew I was gay.”

Kelley stares at her incredulously.

“Fine. There’s nothing exciting to tell. No drama. I don’t do drama. I’m friends with all my exes.”

“What? How?” Kelley's still friends with Christen, because it's _Christen_ , but she can't imagine ever being friends with Lindsey.

“Um, hello? I’m _so_ loveable and funny. Who wouldn’t want to stay friends with me. And look at this face. You can’t stay mad at this face. You want to hang out with this face. Your turn,” she points at Kelley.

Instead, Kelley gets Ash's attention. “You want another beer?” 

Emily shakes her head. “Not done with this one.”

“Can I get a Bud Light, please?" The prospect of having to talk about Lindsey is making Kelley nauseous. She doesn't know how to explain it. Any of it. There's no good explanation for why she stayed with Lindsey when they fought so much, for all their break ups and make ups. 

On Sonnett’s suggestion, they move to a small corner booth, Sonnett carrying their beers in one hand, because she’s pretty certain Kelley’s would end up all over the floor if Kelley walked with hers, and her other hand around Kelley's waist, just in case. “So? What do you want to talk about then?”

Kelley runs her tongue across her teeth. “I want a rematch,” she says, welcoming the opportunity to change the subject. And slurring a bit.

“Huh?”

“1 v 1. You’re good, but I don’t lose,” Kelley says, leaning against the wall of the booth.

Sonnett chuckles. “You lost. Like, 12 hours ago.

“I played at Stanford. It’s just been awhile. That was a warm-up.”

That brings out a full-on laugh from Sonnett. “That so? Babe, you don’t want a rematch. Trust me.”

“Why? Cause you played for UVA? The Hoos don’t scare me.”

“You’re funny when you’re drunk,” Sonnett says, reaching across the table for Kelley’s hand.

“Buzzed,” Kelley corrects buzzing the z's for emphasis, watching Sonnett run her thumb across her hand.

“Really? Ok,” Sonnett shrugs. And then she adds, almost nonchalantly, because she figures as drunk as Kelley is, she probably won’t even remember in the morning, if it even does register right now, “I was on the U-20 National Team, too.” It’s not something she likes talking about, mostly because of how it ended, but she’s not about to let Kelley think her confidence is unfounded cockiness, not about to let Kelley think she just got lucky.

Even in her drunken state, the words “national team” register with Kelley immediately. Mainly because her ex-girlfriend was on the U-20 National Team years ago, and is on the National Team now. And if she were to guess, Kelley thinks Lindsey and Sonnett are probably around the same age. Which means…

“So that t-shirt I washed- I washed for you… that was like… like... you didn’t buy it?” Kelley stammers at the realization Sonnett is not just some casual soccer fan.

“Nope. Practice tee,” Sonnett confirms.

“Holy. Shit.” And that holy shit is as much about Lindsey as it is about anything else. _Why the fuck is the world so fucking small,_ she thinks. She wants to ask if Sonnett knows Lindsey, but Kelley can’t handle going there right now. There’s definitely not enough alcohol in her system for this. She downs the rest of her beer and gets up to go back to the bar for another. But Sonnett doesn’t let go of her hand, pulling her back to the table. Even in the ridiculous red lighting of the bar, Sonnett’s so beautiful, her face so serene, so clueless as to what’s going through Kelley’s mind. It’s enough to make Kelley forget that she was about to get another drink. “Gotta pee,” Kelley announces, and she turns, Sonnett reaches her fingers into the front pocket of Kelley’s jeans and plucks out her keys. “Hey, buy a girl a drink first,” Kelley slurs, and Sonnett chuckles. “But seriously, can you get me another Bud Light?” She _needs_ it.

“Yeah, ok,” Emily agrees, and as soon as Kelley is out of her sight, she goes to the bar, asks for Kelley’s card back, and pays their tab. Kelley won’t know tonight, but she’ll figure it out eventually, and Emily thinks she can get another date out of it when Kelley flips. But Kelley’s gone for what seems like an abnormally long time, long enough that Emily starts to wonder if she dipped out the back door and caught an Uber, so she downs the rest of her beer and decides to go looking for her. 

She finds Kelley in the bathroom, leaning on the sink. “Throw up?” she asks, only half joking. Kelley’s eyes meet hers in the mirror and she shakes her head. “Hey,” Sonnett says softly, placing her hand on the small of Kelley’s back, “what’s wrong?”

Kelley just bites her lip and shakes her head again. Then she takes a deep breath and turns around, too up in Sonnett’s space, but Sonnett doesn’t back away. And when Sonnett’s eyes flick down to her lips, it’s all she needs. She doesn’t care if it’s because Sonnett is expecting her to say something or if it’s because her lipstick is smeared or if it’s because Sonnett wants to kiss her, and she’s not going to wait to find out. Tonight’s too much; it’s about to be more. She grabs Sonnett by the jacket, pulling her the rest of the way in, and kisses her hard. In Sonnett’s surprise and Kelley’s drunkenness, their teeth knock together causing Sonnett to jerk, but Kelley grabs her by the back of the neck and pulls her back in, kissing her hungrily, desperately, like she can kiss away Lindsey’s memory. And Sonnett lets her for a moment before she kisses back, tugging on Kelley’s lip and her tongue and...

And then she stops. 

Takes Kelley’s hands, but also takes a step back.

Shakes her head. 

“You’re drunk.” It sounds almost apologetic.

“Buzzed,” Kelley tries to argue. 

It’s not going to convince Emily. “Come on,” she tugs at Kelley’s hand and Kelley begrudgingly follows. She’s too drunk to even question walking out of the bar without her credit card, but not drunk enough to avoid the pain of embarrassment. Sonnett guides Kelley through the bar with one hand on Kelley’s hip and her other arm around Kelley’s waist, trying to keep Kelley steady, but also wanting Kelley to know that that kiss didn't scare her away. She takes Kelley to the passenger side of her car, and is about to open the door when Kelley leans back against it. 

“Emily, I- ”

“Yeah, I know,” Emily cuts her off. 

There are so many things Kelley’s drunk self wants to say in that moment.

_I’m sorry._

_I haven’t had anything to drink in months. This isn’t who I am._

_You make me so nervous._

_I didn’t kiss you because of the alcohol. It gave me the courage, but I’ve been wanting to._

_I’m fine, I can drive._

It’s probably just as well than she doesn’t say any of them.

“Hey, let’s get something to eat,” Emily suggests. It’s stupid late for that, but she doubts Kelley’s eaten since lunch.

“That taco truck on South Grand. It’s that way,” Kelley points behind her. And then she scratches her head. “No, maybe it’s that way.”

Sonnett laughs. “We’ll find it. What’s the name?” Kelley shrugs.

A few minutes later, she’s pulling into a narrow parking lot. “Danny’s sound right?” Kelley nods. “Wanna come with me, or maybe just give me your order and wait here?” But Kelley’s already opening her door. “All right then.”

Kelley orders two veggie tacos, ignoring the look Sonnett gives her, or more likely, completely oblivious to the look Sonnett gives her. Sonnett orders a fish taco and a carnitas taco, and when she looks around, she finds Kelley already sitting on the curb unwrapping a taco. “Guess we’ll eat here.” Kelley leans on Sonnett’s shoulder as she chews. “I want a rematch,” she mumbles between bites.

“I know. You said that already.”

“Mmhmm. I played at Stanford.”

“So I’ve heard.”

“After we finish eating, round two.”

Sonnett belly-laughs, bringing a smile to Kelley’s face. “Kell, I don’t know if you noticed this, but it’s late. Dark?” Sonnett gestures to the sky.

“Yeah, but there’s that park. Thataway,” Kelley points, seemingly more confident about her directions this time. Sonnett knows there’s not a park for miles in the direction Kelley pointed. “Has lighted basketball courts we could play on, and tennis courts. You any good at soccer tennis, Sonny?” she asks, shoving the last half of her taco in her mouth.

Sonnett ignores her. “Come on,” she helps Kelley back up and to the car. 

By the time they get back to Sonnett’s apartment, Kelley can hardly keep her eyes open. “Hey, this isn’t the park,” she protests. “And it’s not my house,” she adds looking around. 

“Nope.”

“Won’t kiss me because I’m too drunk, but you’ll take me to bed.”

“Also a nope.”

She helps Kelley up the stairs, into her apartment. Gets her a UVA tee, maybe on purpose, and some shorts to change into. Sets out water, Advil, and a toothbrush. “Think you can manage? I’ll be back in a minute.” When Emily returns, Kelley’s changed out of her shirt, but she still has her jeans and shoes on, and she looks passed out. Sonnett shakes her head. She sits on the edge of the bed and takes Kelley’s shoes off, then gets up and pulls the covers over her. As she’s turning to leave, Kelley grabs her hand. “Stay,” comes this sleepy voice that Sonnett can’t ignore. 

She slides down onto the floor, still holding Kelley’s hand. Figuring she can stay until Kelley falls asleep, she leans back against her bed. She likes this woman. She can see past her drunkenness, past her discomfort and uncertainty, past the hard exterior she’s tried to maintain all night.

“She said she couldn’t be faithful,” Kelley murmurs a few minutes later, her voice stirring Sonnett awake. 

“Who?” Sonnett asks from the floor.

“Lindsey," Kelley says like Emily is just supposed to know who she's talking about. "When she moved, she said she couldn’t stay faithful through a long-distance relationship. So I ended it.” Which is true, but also not true. Because Lindsey’s been back to the state twice since Kelley “ended it,” and ended it seems very subjective. 

“Sounds like a good decision,” Sonnett says quietly.

“She’s a- ” Kelley’s voice fades, then she stirs again. “Why are you being so good to me?” she mumbles. But she’s out before she hears Emily's answer.


	6. Sober

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kelley would like to crawl in a hole and hide there...
> 
> .... and yet she can't seem to stay out of Sonnett's classroom.

“Mornin’, Sunshine,” Emily says with an exaggerated drawl as Kelley wanders out of the bedroom. “How’s the hangover?” Bagel tears off the couch to jump all over Kelley, and Emily’s expression is one of defeat, like she fears her dog is never going to settle down. 

“I don’t have one.” Kelley sounds shocked at her own revelation. She squats down to pet Bagel, but distractedly, looking around and taking everything in. It’s the first time she’s actually seeing Emily’s place. It’s cute. Warm colors. Quirky pieces on a shelving unit. Modern artwork. Potted plants everywhere. Clean lines but still cozy. And Emily looks cozy, under a blanket, both hands wrapped around a coffee mug. 

“Pickle juice,” Emily winks. “Works like a charm. Breakfast?”

“Nah, I should go,” Kelley stands and looks down at her feet nervously, the embarrassment over last night setting in.

“Plans?” Emily asks, raising her eyebrows and taking a sip of her coffee. “I can make a coffee to-go.”

“No. I just – I should get out of your hair.” Kelley’s rubbing her face, staring out the window, unable to look at Emily.

Before she realizes it, Emily’s made her way across the room. “Have breakfast, Kell,” she says, touching Kelley’s elbow lightly. She waits until Kelley finally takes a deep breath and looks at her. “Made oatmeal. It’s all I could think of that would be bland enough in case the pickle juice didn’t work. But it’s peach. Well, it could be peaches and cream, but you ordered your tacos without cheese, so I’m worried about you. Vegetarian or vegan?” Emily winces, already anticipating the answer.

“Vegan.”

“So much worse,” Emily mumbles under her breath, but purposely loud enough so Kelley can hear her. “C’mon. Stay,” Emily says over her shoulder. She’s already filling up a bowl for Kelley. And pouring coffee. And she has real napkins out on a table that’s already set. 

Kelley knows she can’t leave now without being rude. The new focus becomes how fast can she eat and then leave so she doesn’t have to think about last night. Bagel jumps up on the bench seat next to her.

“She has no manners. Sorry,” Emily says, walking around to put Bagel back on the floor. And then she sits next to Kelley.

It makes Kelley hot all over, having Emily this close, but she manages to compose herself. “It’s because she doesn’t respect you.”

Emily shrugs. “Not really one of my life goals. I’d rather be fun.”

“That doesn’t work with dogs. Or kids”

“It totally works with kids! Look, you can get them to listen to you because they’re scared of you, or you can get them to listen because they like you. One way makes happier people all around. And honestly, when I play with Bagel enough to wear her out, it works with her too. I just haven’t taken her for a walk yet this morning. Didn’t know when you’d get up. Wanna come with?”

“I really should go.” The disappointment is there on Emily’s face; Kelley sees it. But it’s easier to pretend that she’s reading into that expression. That’s there’s no way Emily could want her to hang around after she got that drunk. That there’s no way Emily could still like her after that disaster of a date. Emily sits back and studies Kelley, confused. Kelley’s flirted with her. Kelley’s been so nervous around her. Kelley kissed her. So when Kelley moves towards the front door, Emily stays put. She watches Kelley bend over and rub Bagel’s tummy. “You’re a good girl, Bagel. Have a nice walk.” And then she stands and looks at Emily. “I, um… I’ll see ya on Monday.” It’s pathetic. Kelley knows this. In all her embarrassment, it’s also all that she can manage. 

She goes straight to Tobin and Christen’s house, interrupting their breakfast with her dramatics. She begins recounting her terrible, horrible, no good, very bad date. They both sit there in silence staring at her until she’s done rambling. 

“Nice shirt,” Christen jokes and Kelley glares at her. “What? You seem to be amassing quite the collection of UVA apparel.”

“Dude. She made you breakfast and asked you to go with her to take her dog on a walk. Not things you do if you’re trying to get your date to leave,” Tobin adds. Christen nods in agreement. “I thought you said _she_ came onto you in college?” Tobin asks, turning back to Christen, and Christen throws her hands up like she doesn’t know what happened to Kelley’s confidence. Tobin refocuses on Kelley. “You spent the night at her place and didn’t even get lucky. Lame, dude,” Tobin shakes her head. “So lame.”

“Why’d you drink so much anyway? It’s not like you,” Christen asks gently seeing the mix of annoyance and anguish spread across Kelley’s face.

“She asked about Lindsey,” Kelley says, as if that explains everything.

“And?”

“And she played on the Youth National Team. Which means-”

“Which means she probably knows your ex,” Tobin laughs. “Can’t even escape it in a city as big as LA. We should start our own Chart.” Kelley flips Tobin off and collapses on their couch to take a nap. “She wanted you to take her surfing. Maybe we should all go,” Tobin calls across the room, but Kelley just grumbles and otherwise ignores her.

“You’re gonna have to see her Monday,” Christen reminds her.

“Don’t wake me up til the school year’s over.” But before she falls asleep, she sends Emily a text, because she really does feel bad about last night, and about the way she hurried out this morning.

 **Miss Kelley** : Thanks for breakfast. And for taking care of my drunk ass last night.

 **Emily Sonnett** : Don’t mention it. Hope you’re still up for surfing sometime. Was looking forward to that

 **Miss Kelley** : Also, sorry.

 **Emily Sonnett** : for what?

 **Miss Kelley** : Everything.

 **Emily Sonnett** : no worries. You’re good

_Highly unlikely_ , Kelley thinks. _Emily had to sleep on her on sofa because of me_. She ignores the surfing comment.

* * *

**Monday**

When the new week comes around, Kelley is forced to face her fear because she still has that stupid UVA tee, and the longer it’s in her possession, the more likely it becomes that something could happen to it, too. Besides, it makes her think about Emily and she’d rather not. 

Rose is in Emily’s classroom. At first, it fills Kelley with panic, but then she realizes this can work to her advantage – hand Emily the shirt and get the heck outta there under the guise of not wanting to interrupt the conversation. Kelley’s not three steps into the room when Rose, eyebrows raised, looks from Emily to Kelley and heads to the door. As she leaves, she pulls the magnet out of the door frame and kicks the doorstop, effectively locking the door so no one can walk in on them. But as the door slowly swings closed, she squints at Kelley with this look that Kelley can’t shake. It’s judgy. It’s _Rose_.

Emily’s perched on the edge of her desk looking as at ease as she always does. “Hey!” she says, smile on her face and in her voice.

“Hey,” Kelley mumbles, taking one more step into the room before stopping. “Brought your shirt back.” She has every intention of setting it on one of the student desks and leaving, but Emily reaches her hand out because of course she does, and Kelley feels obligated to give it to her. 

Emily pulls Kelley closer as she takes her shirt back. “Hey,” she repeats, softer this time, and her smile softens, too. It’s that smile that Kelley feels like she can’t resist. She searches Kelley’s eyes, trying to get a read on her. They’re the same height like this, with Emily sitting on her desk. She tucks a stray stand of hair behind Kelley’s ear, brushing her cheek. “You have a good weekend?”

Kelley shrugs and changes the subject. “You know, you could have just given me my sweatshirt to wear that night and then we wouldn’t have this clothing situation right now.” There’s a little bite to her voice – there to cover her nervousness – but Emily ignores it.

“Maybe I like having a clothing situation with you,” Emily replies. She hops off her desk, squeezes Kelley’s hand, and heads to the door. “Time for duty.”

* * *

**Tuesday**

Kelley’s back the following morning, a little more brazen because she’s annoyed this time. “Why am I not seeing a charge on my credit card from the bar?” she demands to know.

Emily shrugs innocently. “Don’t those things take days to show up?”

“It’s been days,” Kelley says flatly. “You paid. Again.” It’s supposed to be a question, but it doesn’t sound like one, and Emily doesn’t answer. “Ugh. How much was it? I’ll Venmo you.”

“Don’t remember. Also, if you want to pay me back, I accept homecooked meals and surf lessons,” Emily grins.

Kelley turns on her heel and walks out of Emily’s classroom, as frustrated as she was when she came in. She convinces her students that indoor recess sounds like a fun idea… even though it’s not raining.

* * *

**Wednesday**

Kelley is alone in the workroom pouring herself a cup of coffee. She stands in front of the coffee pot and takes a sip of it, hot and black, when a hand lands gently on her hip. She swallows too much too fast, burning her throat, and is about to spin around when that hand slides around her waist and pulls her closer. “I wish I was your coffee,” Emily whispers in her ear. And as quickly as she pulled Kelley in, Emily lets her go, leaving Kelley to spin around and stare at her. 

“You can’t - ” the sound of the door opening stops Kelley mid-sentence, and by the time Kelley turns back to Emily, she’s gone. Kelley heads to her classroom to finish looking over the word problems her students have written to trade with a classmate today – it’s the reason she got to work so early anyway – but she finds herself increasingly unable to focus. 

That little zing of Emily’s hand on her hip. 

The way, just for a split second, she wanted to sink back into Emily’s body.

Emily’s hair, tickling her cheek.

The way Emily’s breath felt against her ear – hot and steady – and her voice – low, seductive, confident. 

Emily always smells so good.

And god damnit, why did she have to get so close?

Kelley gives up on what she’s supposed to be doing and decides she’s going to give Emily a piece of her mind. She can’t be distracted like this. Not at work.

But when she gets to Emily’s classroom, Rose is there. Again. Kelley’s about to back out of the room when Rose pushes past her. “Hey, Kelley,” she smiles, so at least there’s that. She pulls the magnet and kicks out the doorstop. Again. Kelley stays where she is this time, because last time she got closer and last time Emily brushed her cheek and she cannot with that. 

“Morning, Miss Kelley.” There’s that soft Sonny smile. 

“You can’t do that,” Kelley manages to croak out.

“Do what? Say good morning?” Emily asks, like she knows. She reaches her hand out towards Kelley and Kelley moves even closer, like she can’t help it, like Emily’s drawing her in. Before Kelley realizes it, her hand is in Emily’s and she’s standing too close. “Do what?” she asks again, in that low hoarse voice that makes Kelley feel like her knees are going to buckle.

“ _That_.”

“This?” Emily asks innocently, lips against Kelley’s neck.

“You can’t whisper in my ear at work,” Kelley mumbles, eyes closed, appreciating the feeling of Emily’s hands on her hips.

“I know. But you keep avoiding me.”

“I’m not. I’ve been in here every day this week.”

“Because you’ve been mad at me about one thing or another. You had indoor recess.”

“That was because - ”

“That was because you’ve been avoiding me. You kissed _me_ , Kell. And then you rushed out, and now you’re avoiding me.”

“I was drunk,” Kelley tries to protest.

“So you wouldn’t kiss me sober?” Emily asks, pulling back so she can see Kelley. “Because it my experience, that amount of alcohol just makes you brave enough to do that thing you really want to do but were too afraid to do.” Emily’s hand slides to the small of Kelley’s back and she closes the gap between them. She tips Kelley’s chin up and traces Kelley’s jaw with her thumb until her fingers are drumming along the back of Kelley’s neck.

Kelley can’t even form a sentence. And then she doesn’t need to because Emily’s lips are on hers and it’s so much better than the drunken mess that was the other night. So much better that Kelley could get lost in how soft Emily’s lips are, until she remembers they’re at work, and she’s the one to pull away this time. “We- we’re at work,” she mumbles, pressing her forehead into Emily hard enough that Emily sits back on her desk.

“I know, and Rose made sure my door’s locked.”

Well at least Rose is good for something.

Kelley makes it out to the playground for recess. And Emily doesn’t let it go unnoticed. She leaves her students to join Christen and Kelley at their table, much to Christen’s amusement. “Hey, Sonny!” she says, overenthusiastically.

“Hey, ladies,” Sonnett says, smooth as ever, eyes not leaving Kelley, who is currently ignoring her, her students’ frisbee game suddenly of extreme interest. “You made it back outside, I see,” Sonnett continues, determined to give Kelley a hard time because she finds it funny. Christen cannot contain her laughter, sputtering as she tries to stop herself. Kelley shoots her an “eat shit and die” look, and then turns to give Sonnett that same look, but she can’t muster it again. That face is so happy and serene and gorgeous and even though she knows Sonnett is purposely messing with her, she can’t stay mad about it. “I missed that beautiful face,” Sonnett continues. “And your fiery competitiveness.”

“Aww,” Christen interjects, looking between them. “She said your face is beautiful even with that scowl, Kell.” Kelley’s face burns. “I think Tobin needs me,” she adds, starting to get up. 

“Miss Sonny, Miss Sonny,” come a chorus of voices from the nearby blacktop.

“Don’t. Just wanted to say ‘hi,” Sonnett stops her. “Gotta get back to the kiddos. Hopscotch math is hard. Bye, ladies.” She flashes a grin and is gone again.

“Kell!” Christen sits back down and turns to her. “What the fuck? She _likes_ you. And her personality is just adorable. Stop being an asshole! Also, hopscotch math? Why haven’t we thought of this? They don’t even realize that she’s taking up their playtime with learning,” Christen says in admiration. 

“They’re fucking five,” Kelley mutters, burying her head in her arms. “They don’t realize shit. And I’m not being an asshole.” She’s not _trying_ to be an asshole. Not meaning to, at least. She’s just embarrassed still, and can’t imagine anyone being interested after all that. _Maybe Sonnett just enjoys the chase_ , she tries to convince herself. _Maybe this is all just about having fun to Sonnett_. _She’s young. And so damn happy all the time._ It would be easy enough to test that theory. But finding out is scary. Maybe Kelley doesn’t want to know the answer.

* * *

**Thursday**

“I still feel like you’re avoiding me,” Sonnett slides into the seat next to Kelley. 

Christen’s seat. Kelley chooses to dwell on that because it’s easier to be annoyed than it is to be focused on the way her heartbeat quickens when Emily is near. Kelley takes a deep breath and faces her. “I’m not,” she says emphatically, without elaboration. “And that’s Christen’s seat.”

“I’m good,” Christen says, sitting down on the other side of Kelley. Tobin follows, and Kelley lets out a loud sigh because their unofficial seating order that they’ve had since they started teaching together is now disrupted. Kelley doesn’t like change.

“Thought anymore about those surfing lessons?” Sonnett asks, and Tobin leans over Christen to join the conversation, which is _not_ what Kelley needs right now. Before she knows it, they’re on the verge of concrete plans and Kelley knows she’s about to get roped into spending more time with Sonnett because suddenly, inexplicably, Christen is on board with surfing.

Thankfully, Ms. Lloyd starts their faculty meeting, and Kelley feels like she can relax in the anticipated silence. Well, maybe a little, at least. It’s hard with the cute woman sitting next to her. The one who smells like mountain laurel – like home. _And how the fuck does she smell like that anyway_? Kelley wonders.

Emily’s knee bumps hers under the table. “I had fun, at the bar. I like talking to you,” she leans over and whispers, face straight forward, eyes on Ms. Lloyd as she drones on about the upcoming bookfair. “If you’re avoiding me because you got a little drunk, it doesn’t bother me, like at all. I get it. I make you nervous.”

“You don’t make me nervous,” Kelley hisses. Which is false, but also not why she got drunk.

“Yeah, ok. Anyway, I - ”

Kelley turns to her and their eyes meet briefly. Kelley shushes her, but she watches Emily’s eyes dart to her lips and she suddenly she can hear her heart pounding in her ears.

Emily doesn’t hush. “I don’t know if that’s why you’ve been avoiding me or whatever, but if that’s why, it’s a stupid reason. And if it’s not - ”

“Miss Sonnett, Miss O’Hara?” Ms. Lloyd’s voice cuts through the library. “Am I interrupting your conversation? Because I can wait until you two are done.”

Emily doesn’t miss a beat. “Sorry, we were just discussing a mixed grade level project. We’ll come see you after the meeting.”

_What. The. Fuck._

_What fucking project?_

_Why the fuck would she volunteer them to go to the principal’s office?_

_How the fuck did she cover that so smoothly?_

_And what the fuck are they supposed to say to Lloyd?_

Emily squeezes her hand under the table, a silent “I got this.” Thankfully, she lets go quickly, and Kelley hopes it’s before she realizes how sweaty her palms are _. They’re sweaty because we just got called out by the principal_ , Kelley tries to convince herself, but it’s largely ineffective. Her heel starts tapping uncontrollably under the table, and Sonnett’s hand on her knee trying to stop it isn’t helpful either. 

“What the fuck, Sonnett?” Kelley demands as they wait outside Ms. Lloyd’s office after the faculty meeting.

Emily waves her off. “What ya worried about? I got this,” she says with this air of confidence that should put Kelley at ease, but it doesn’t because she’s going in completely blind, and Kelley hates being unprepared. 

Ms. Lloyd brushes past them and sits down at her desk, and Emily follows, taking a seat like she’s getting comfy for a long discussion. Kelley groans internally. “Ok, what is this project?”

“It’s a big undertaking. It’ll involve the upper-school and probably some community donations to make it come to life,” Emily starts, and Ms. Lloyd turns her attention to Kelley, as if she’s expecting her older, more experienced Master Teacher to take over the conversation. Instead, Emily starts rambling and Kelley can’t keep up with her dizzying pace. Upper school. Construction students. Tree house. Playhouse. Stage. Creative play. Imagination. Mentoring. Empathy. Maturity. Storytime. Science lessons. Peer teaching. Performances. Before Kelley can even wrap her head around what’s going on, Emily’s suggesting that they at least start with more mixed-grade interaction and let the older students read to the younger students. Kelley turns her attention to Ms. Lloyd, sitting back in her chair, fingers pressed together forming a steeple. She seems fully engaged in what Emily is saying, nodding along. She seems… impressed even. “I just think there are a lot of benefits to letting the third graders work with my kinder kids, and we’re really not tapping into the mixed grade level work like we should,” Emily concludes.

“Write up a formal proposal. Cross-curricular lesson plans. Get the other teachers in your village on board. I’ll talk to the upper school,” Ms. Lloyd says, almost enthusiastically for her robotic self, and Kelley has to work hard to keep her mouth from dropping. “If you need more time to collaborate, switch your specials hours and send your students to art together. It’ll give us a good idea of how they interact with each other before we go all-in. And Ms. O’Hara, start taking your students to Ms. Sonnett’s classroom once a week so they can read to the littles. We’ll get that started now and look at moving forward with everything else up after Christmas.”

“What the fuck did you just do?” Kelley demands to know as they exit to the parking lot, putting a damper on Emily’s self-satisfied expression.

“Well, I thought you’d be happy that I got us some more time together. Or not. And I probably pissed Tobin off in the process,” Sonnett says, all the excitement that was in her voice minutes before gone.

Kelley feels bad about how harshly she handled that. “No, I mean where did that all come from?” she asks more kindly, trying to smooth things over.

“My brain?” Sonnett shrugs. They stop at Kelley’s car, and Emily rests her hand on the door, preventing Kelley from opening it. “I dig you, Kell,” Emily says bluntly. “I think I’ve made it clear. And I thought it went both ways, but maybe it doesn’t, so I’m gonna back off. And I’m sure you can take your kids to Rose’s class for reading time.” Emily turns and walks towards her car. 

It shocks Kelley, both Emily’s words and the way those words make her feel. Emily’s giving her this easy out, but it’s not what she wants after all. “It does,” Kelley calls after her, catching her as she’s opening the door. Emily turns around. “It does,” Kelley repeats, and as Emily comes back to her, she adds, “It’s mutual,” quietly.

“Yeah?” Emily raises her eyebrows as she studies Kelley’s face.

“Yeah.”

Emily takes Kelley’s hand. “Ok.”

“You can’t do that,” Kelley protests.

“Hold your hand in a parking lot?”

“We’re at work. Someone might see.”

“There are no kids here.”

“Teachers. Administrators. They can’t know,” Kelley whispers, like she has this fear that they might be overheard even though the parking lot is empty. 

“Because?”

“Because I don’t want either of us to get fired.” 

Emily looks at her in confusion. “Tobin and Christen haven’t been fired.”

“How do you even know about them?” Kelley sounds stunned.

“Rose.”

Fucking. Rose.

“Well no one else knows,” Kelley rushes to add.

“Everyone knows. Lloyd knows.” Kelley’s face says she doesn’t believe it. “For real. I was getting here the other morning and Tobin and Christen were pulling in when I was walking by Lloyd and she goes, ‘Did you see their new Jeep? It’s so nice.’ _Their_. As in it belongs to both of them. She didn’t ask me if I saw Tobin’s new Jeep. She knows. But if you don’t want a kiss, that’s fine.”

Emily pulls away to go back to her car, but Kelley doesn’t let go of her hand, bringing her back. “Not here. But come over for dinner. I’m making a vegan mushroom bourguignon.” 

“As appealing as that actually sounds, I can’t. I have to get home to let Bagel out to potty. But,” she adds, seeing the disappointment creep into Kelley’s face, give me a heads-up next time, and I’ll get the dog walker to come over an extra time so I can.”

“Is tomorrow enough of a heads up?”

All Kelley gets for an answer is a wink.

* * *

**Friday**

“Five days in a row,” Emily muses as Kelley makes sure the door closes and locks behind her. “I feel blessed.”

“You should,” Kelley replies, confidence returning as she saunters over to where Emily is sitting in her office chair. Kelley perches on her desk, legs dangling. “I know I said I’d cook for you, but I don’t like cooking on Fridays. So accept these leftovers, and we’ll order takeout tonight?”

Emily scoots her chair towards Kelley and sits up straighter, hands settling on Kelley’s thighs. “Did I ever say for sure I was coming over?” Emily asks coyly, taking Kelley slightly aback. That hesitation on Kelley’s face, that little flicker of uncertainty in her eyes makes Emily smile. “Fine. I’ll come over. But only cause you’re cute.” She tips her head up, waiting for Kelley to give in and kiss her. She finally gets a peck, but not before Kelley blushes (because she can’t help it) and rolls her eyes (for effect). 

“That looks and smells suspiciously like what Kelley had for lunch,” Rose observes from the couch where she’s sprawled out in the faculty workroom.

“How would you even know what Kelley had for lunch?” Emily asks, forgetting that Rose has the perfect schedule of lunch and conference back to back, giving her two solid hours without children. She spends it in the workroom most days, chatting with everyone during their lunches, watching TV, reading, playing Scrabble on her phone. It’s why Rose knows all the things. Even when it seems like she’s not paying attention, she hears everything.

“Suspect,” is all Rose says before she goes back to reading.

Emily texts Kelley as the day winds down.

 **Emily Sonnett** : Imma give you a 10 min head start. Wouldn’t want people to see us leaving at the same time and get suspicious. Imagine the scandal if I turn out of the parking lot behind you. So what’s your address?

Kelley feels infinitely better about things now than she did at the beginning of the week. Her place is spotless, her head is full of take-out and movie selections, and she already told Tobin to prepare for a surfing sesh tomorrow if things go well tonight. “You got this, O’Hara,” she tells herself under her breath, propping her feet on her desk and leaning back on her chair as she types her address into the text box. Then she adds a “Shut up, Sonnett” – just for good measure - and she smirks as she types it.


	7. She

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kelley redeems herself, even though Emily really didn't think she needed to.

_How is she so damn cool_? 

The vibe she gives off – leaning against Kelley’s doorframe, head slightly tilted, hand on her hip, one leg crossed over the other – is something else. She’s looking down, but when she hears the door open, her head lifts. “Hi, Miss Kelley.” Her eyebrows raise, almost suggestively, but… not… quite. Kelley looks her up and down. She can’t talk. There’s a pain in her chest. Like an actual pain; not an imaginary one. She can’t fall for someone again. It’s not safe. Maybe that’s what the pain is – her body remembering last time. But, fuck, she’s cute, and fuck it’s hard not to get lost in those eyes, in the light splattering of freckles across her forehead, in the soft smile. “You gonna invite me in?” Emily’s voice interrupts all of the thoughts racing through her mind, running together, threatening to destroy all the protections she's built in for herself since Lindsey left.

_How is she able make a plain white tee look so fucking good_? 

Kelley opens her mouth and realizes how dry it is. She swallows, trying to fix the problem. “What’d you do? Change in your car?” she asks, and Emily just shrugs. Kelley’s eyes drift back down to her long legs in short, ripped jeans shorts. So short the pockets are visible hanging out the bottom. She’s wearing the same pair of, very gay, Kelley might add, Birkenstocks that Kelley owns, toenails painted white to match her fingernails.

_How is she so thoughtful_? 

Kelley feels like she can barely handle doing the minimum most days, but the hand that Emily had hidden behind her reveals a gift. It’s a surprising gesture, though a bottle of wine doesn’t seem fitting considering last week. But it’s this cute wooden octagonal planter that looks like it was made out of strips old pallets, but the sides are shorter, and it’s filled with succulents. Emily’s known she was coming over for 24 hours, and yet, she found time to get this. “I kill plants,” Kelley mumbles sheepishly. 

Emily’s full laugh fills Kelley’s apartment. Her place hasn't had a laugh like that in it in awhile. “They’re succulents. By nature, you can’t really kill them.” Kelley gives her a dubious look. “As long as you invite me over like once a month, they’ll be fine. Just don’t touch them,” Emily says with a wink, like she knows Kelley is incapable of keeping something left in her care long enough alive.

She walks farther into Kelley’s apartment and sets the gift down on the counter. “You didn’t have to,” Kelley mumbles from behind her. 

Emily turns around and takes Kelley’s hands in hers. Keeping them by her side, she steps into Kelley’s space. “My Momma told me never to show up empty-handed. I’d thought you’d like it, but uh…” Emily looks around, finding nothing green in Kelley’s apartment, “well, it’ll brighten this space up.”

“I do like it. A lot.” Kelley’s fingertips play over Emily’s. “I just don’t know how you even had time to get it.”

“Get it?” Emily leans back and laughs again. “I made it.” This seems even more improbable to Kelley. “You don’t pick up pallets when you see them out at people’s curbs?” Kelley’s lips come together to form what looks like the word what, but nothing comes out. “No? They’re so handy for things,” Emily continues. “Did you even see my coffee table? Pallets. Artwork on the wall? Pallets. You’ll just have to come back and see.”

“And the plants?”

“Oh, I had those propagating. I have more. If you want some for your classroom,” Emily offers.

“Who are you?” Kelley asks, and it’s a very serious question.

Emily clicks her tongue. “Keep me around and get to know me. I’m a lot of things.” 

_How is she so at ease?_

Emily grabs a seat on Kelley’s couch and begins rifling through the items on her coffee table like they’ve been friends for years. Or like nosiness is just her thing and she doesn't have anything to hide so she can't fathom why anyone else would mind. Kelley watches her shuffle through her previously organized stack of fitness magazines, thumbing through them and fanning them out. Then she moves on to Kelley’s collection of books, carefully opening the covers without disturbing the dust jackets and skimming through introductions before adding each one to a pile in her lap until she’s finished. She rearranges them before putting the whole stack back. Kelley grinds her teeth, feeling the pressure in her chest as her anxiety grows. She feels like she’s being judged, mainly because all of her books are self-help books. But more than that, she has to fight back the urge to say something about the disorder now on display on her coffee table. It’s a lot for her after a long week. Actually, it's a lot for her after living alone for eight months. Emily’s voice snaps her out of her thoughts. “Yo, Kell. Ya gonna make me hang out by myself or?” she asks, looking over the back of the couch.

Kelley joins her, shoving some to-go menus in Emily’s hand and starting to rearrange her things. “Pick something.”

Emily watches her out of the corner of her eye. “Surprising you’d let me pick considering how much control you need.”

Kelley immediately feels called out. It makes her ears burn. “I don’t need- ” Kelley starts to protest, and then she stops herself, because she does. So much of her life with Lindsey, she had none. No say in where they lived. In what they did. Lindsey didn’t want to get married; they didn’t get married. Lindsey didn’t want to come out; Kelley stayed home every time Lindsey had a formal function that required a date. Every little detail of her life was controlled by someone else, and she let it be, because Lindsey was a world-class athlete and Lindsey was in the public eye. Because Kelley loved her so the sacrifice seemed… necessary? Normal? Required to keep the relationship going? So Kelley found things she could control. The order in her home. The behavior of her students. The amount she worked out. And it didn’t really seem like a bad deal most of the time. Her students were well-behaved and learned what they needed to; her place was immaculate; she was fitter than she was in college. She doesn’t mind letting Emily pick dinner because Lindsey always did. It seems easy to defer to someone else here in this situation, when she’s not alone. “I just like things in order,” Kelley mutters.

Emily touches her arm softly. “Kell, look. People can actually see your magazines now. And your books, they _are_ in order, just a _different_ order. Tell me that’s not aesthetically pleasing.”

Kelley actually looks at her coffee table this time, at how Emily’s arranged the books – by color instead of size. It looks ok. Tolerable. Good even. And she’s not wrong about the magazines, but… it’s too much. “I don’t like change,” Kelley looks down at Emily’s hand on her arm. Calming. Reassuring. If only that were enough to make her get over her OCD.

“Ok,” she says with a gentle squeeze. “I’ll put it back.” And she does. Exactly the way it was before, and Kelley feels like she can breathe easier again. She hands Kelley a menu. “Bowl of Soul. And can we get buffalo cauliflower?”

“Em, you don’t have to get something vegan just because I am,” Kelley protests, but she can’t help think it’s kind of endearing, that Emily would be willing to do that for her. That someone _cares_ enough to do that for her. 

“It’s the only way to get you to share food with me,” Emily winks. “Oooh, oohh,” Emily pokes Kelley’s leg as she’s in the middle of ordering. “Tell them you want to add a growler of Ancient Berry Kombucha.” Kelley gives her a look. “What? It’s got hardly any alcohol.”

“Hang on,” Kelley says into the phone. “It literally says alcoholic kombucha on the menu.”

“It’s fine,” Emily pats Kelley’s leg reassuringly. And she grins when Kelley adds it to their order. “You’re not going to get drunk off of kombucha,” she promises. “Besides, even if you did, drunk you is kind of adorable. And more relaxed. And a little more open. Drunk you really isn’t that bad.”

_How is she so good at getting her way?_

“So…” Emily starts as she get up to clear their trash from dinner, “Christen said that Tobin said we’re going surfing in the morning.” It's not even a question, the way she says it.

 _Fucking Christen_. That’s not what Kelley said, not exactly at least. She wasn’t ready to commit to that. Hopeful, sure. But sure? No. “I um… I said depending on how tonight went.”

Emily snorts. “You had doubts? Not about me. I don’t even know how to have a bad date.”

“I- ”

“Where’s my wetsuit?” Emily asks, like it’s already decided, and Kelley has to admit that confidence is pretty damn sexy.

“C’mon.” Kelley grabs Emily’s hand and drags her to her room. When she emerges from her closet a few minutes later, Emily is leaning against her wall with a smirk on her face. “What?”

She pushes off the wall and closes the space between them, easily sliding an arm around Kelley’s waist. “Look at how easy it was to get in your bedroom.”

“Hush,” Kelley blushes, but she’s mostly ok with it. She reaches up and caresses Emily’s cheek with her free hand. “You’re smooth, Emily Sonnett,” she whispers leaning in until their lips are almost touching. “Real smooth.” This time, she initiates the kiss, but Emily ends it first, plucking the wetsuit out of her hand.

“What are you- ”

_How is she so light, childlike almost?_

“What time are you picking me up?” Emily interrupts her.

“Five.”

“Is that five and we have time to stop for coffee or five and I have to have my own coffee ready already?”

Kelley’s half shocked that there wasn’t even a hint of a complaint about the early wake-up time. “You shouldn’t- ”

“Can you pee in wetsuits like you can pee in the ocean?” Emily interrupts again.

“I- ”

“Ok, so you don’t want me peeing in your wetsuit. Noted.”

“I didn’t say- ”

“Are there sharks in this ocean? There are sharks in the Atlantic.”

“I mean, yeah, but the water’s not- ”

“We should watch a surfing movie!”

“Oh my god, you’re like a child. With ADD!” Kelley shouts at her good-naturedly.

They settle in on the couch and after Googling surfing movies, Emily queues up The Shallows. “I feel like this is a bad idea,” Kelley mutters. “Like you’re not gonna want to go after watching this.”

“It’s not. Let’s make it a better idea.” Emily gets up and turns off Kelley’s lights.

Kelley hates the dark. She’s always hated it, hated that Lindsey had to sleep in total darkness when all she wanted was a nightlight or the blinds cracked a little. Something. And there’s the glow from the TV, but suddenly, it feels like it’s not enough, not when she’s had months in this apartment and not had to turn off the lights to watch TV. 

“Scary movie just got scarier,” Emily says, and Kelley can hear the smile in her voice.

She’s about to protest, but then Emily’s squeezing back between her and the arm of the couch, and she throws an arm over Kelley, pulling her in close and Kelley wills herself to believe it’s ok. Because it feels ok. It feels safe with Emily rubbing circles lightly into her shoulder. And it’s cute when it gets to the gorier parts and Emily buries her face in Kelley’s hair so she doesn’t have to watch. Kelley knows it shouldn’t be funny to her, but there’s something about this woman who so confidently and purposefully picked a movie about a shark attack hiding against her now. Like she has an actual fear. Like her playful questions about sharks in the Pacific was really masking that fear. It feels like another little peak into who she is. As the epilogue plays, Emily buries her nose into Kelley’s neck again. “I have to go. You surfers are early risers.” 

_How does she do this?_

It surprises Kelley how disappointed she feels by that, a wave of sadness washing over which she finds utterly ridiculous because she’s going to see Emily in a few hours. But that sadness is quickly pushed out by the feeling of Emily’s breath, almost… ragged on her neck. That knowledge, that there’s something so obviously there, excites Kelley. She wraps her hand around Emily’s neck until Emily sits back up and looks at her, and then Kelley kisses her, teasing Emily’s lips open with her tongue so she can kiss her deeper. She’s determined to make sure Emily has something to think about on her drive home. Maybe as she falls asleep even. But it goes both ways, Emily’s hand sliding up her thigh, onto her forearm, until it’s gripping her bicep. It makes her lightheaded and nervous in the same way she wanted to leave Emily feeling lightheaded and nervous. It’s been years since a kiss has made her feel like this, like she’s on the verge of letting go of all her apprehension and doubts. And she’s not going to – not yet, she’s absolutely certain of that – but the fact that she can even get to a place of considering it seems significant. “Text me. When you get home.”

**Emily Sonnett** : I look good in a wetsuit. I mean, I look good in anything, so I know you’re not surprised. I’d send you a photo, but I want to leave the thought of me, in a wetsuit, up to your imagination for a little while longer. 

**Miss Kelley** : No one looks good in a wetsuit.

 **Emily Sonnett** : lol. Just wait, Miss Kelley.


	8. Surf

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From sunrise to sunset and back again. From surfing to the sofa.

She looks good in a wetsuit.

That’s Kelley’s first revelation when Emily opens her front door, the neoprene clinging to her, accentuating the cuts and the curves, too, just like she said, her cockiness on full display via text. Kelley’s reaction, once she gets past that, is to burst out laughing. “What in the world?” she asks, shaking her head and stepping inside. Emily looks at her, confused. “Here,” Kelley shoves a mason jar into Emily’s hand. “Breakfast. Turn around.” 

Emily does obediently, without questioning why, but when she feels Kelley unzipping the wetsuit, she has plenty to say. “Hey, we can’t be late, Christen will get mad. If you want to undress me, you need to wait til after. I mean, I _know_ I look good in this,” Emily wiggles her butt against Kelley, “but, really, you could have had me naked last night when I was in your room if you wanted to. Not when we have plans though. I take plans _very_ seriously.”

It takes Kelley a minute to process the rambling, distracted by the well-muscled back exposed as she lowers the zipper. She remembers enough anatomy that she could name every muscle, they’re so perfectly defined. She catches herself tracing her fingers over those muscles before realizing that Emily’s not wearing anything underneath the wetsuit. Her second revelation - that she actually wants to undress Emily right here in her living room - comes to her at the same time she begins to comprehend what Emily’s just said. She coughs – a dry, hacking cough, trying to recover from both her thoughts and Emily's words. “Where’s your swimsuit?”

“Huh?”

Kelley takes a deep breath because it’s the only way to stop herself from laughing again. “Sonny,” she says gently, having to fight back the urge to continue unzipping the wetsuit all the way down to Emily’s lower back. Instead, she wraps her arms around Emily’s stomach, patting her in a way that she knows is patronizing, before pushing Emily away from her. “Go change into a bathing suit, put clothes over it, and bring this back. You can put it on there. You’re not riding in the car with a wetsuit on.”

“Pretty good, huh?” Sonnett grins, fishing for a compliment as she emerges from her bedroom a few minutes later. “Color coordinated with you on short notice.” She nods to Kelley’s pink shorts and holds out her pink tank like it’s not obvious. 

“You can bring Bagel if you want,” Kelley offers, the pup scratching at her legs, trying to get her attention again, but Kelley only has eyes for the woman with the blonde bun in front of her.

“Who’s gonna watch her?” Emily asks, unable to hide her excitement that her dog has been invited.

“Christen. I guarantee she won’t get in the water. She’ll lay there like a princess and read a book.”

“I guess you would know,” Sonnett says, like she knows that Kelley knows.

 _Fucking Rose_. “I’m going to kill your work wife. She tells you everything.” Kelley takes a sweatshirt off Emily’s coatrack and throws it over her shoulder. Teaching little kids for as long as she has, she can already hear the whining that’s going to come when Emily realizes it’s in the low 60s down by the water, and with windchill, colder than that. Whining on her weekend is not something she needs. 

“Don’t be jealous,” Emily smirks, grabbing Bagel’s backpack and leash. Outside, she continues messing with Kelley. “Ah, this is why you have a gay Subaru,” Sonnett says, eyeing the board bag on top. “Makes more sense now.”

“It’s not- ” and then Kelley stops herself again, trying not to give into the banter because she knows Sonnett feeds off of it. “How’d you sleep last night?” she asks as they drive to Tobin and Christen’s place. 

“Like a baby. You?”

“Same ol’, same ol’,” Kelley says, vaguely.

“What’s in the smoothie?”

“Banana, spinach, peanut butter, almond milk, ice. Like it?” Kelley’s voice turns up hopefully at the end.

“Yeah, it’s good. We’ll call it the Miss Kelley Special.”

Kelley rolls her eyes at that. “You’re such a dork.” A dork whose hand she likes to hold, who is so good about always making that little physical contact with her that she didn't even realized she craved. A dork whose smile warms her from the inside, whose smile makes her smile, whose laugh makes her feel like, at least for awhile, all is right with the world.

She texts Christen when they park in the drive. 

**Pressy** : Christen isn’t ready yet. Shocking, I know. Give us a few.

It's Tobin texting her back from Christen's phone. She wonders what it would be like to be in such a relationship where there are no secrets, where you can have your significant other's passcode, where you can pick up their phone without them flipping out. She wonders if she'll ever know that kind of security.

Kelley uses the time to load her board bag on top of their Jeep. Sonnett offers to help, but Kelley won’t let her, so she leans against the vehicle, waiting. Sonnett thinks she could make the process easier, considering how short Kelley is, how much she’s having to reach and stretch to get the straps around, but Kelley’s stubborn. Really though, she doesn’t mind the view, Kelley's calf muscles popping, her stomach exposed. When Kelley hops off the running board, Sonnett pulls her in, wrapping the smaller woman in a hug. “I lied,” she whispers into Kelley’s ear. “Took me forever to fall asleep. Couldn’t stop thinking about your lips.”

“Oh yeah?” Kelley murmurs against Sonnett’s collarbone, trying to hide her smile. “What about them?”

“They’re really soft. They taste like cucumber. And- ” Sonnett tips Kelley’s chin up to kiss her.

“Dawn Patrol, baby!” Tobin yells walking out her front door. And then she sees Kelley separating her lips from Emily’s. “Gross!” she groans. “The sun’s not even up yet, can you not?”

“Awwww,” Christen is almost giddy as she follows behind. “So cute!” And then she punches Tobin in the arm. “Leave them alone.”

As soon as they start driving, Bagel wriggles her way up to the front, setting herself in Christen’s lap. She’s perfectly content with the wind blowing on her face and Christen loving on her. In the back, Sonnett drapes her arm over Kelley’s shoulder. Kelley melts into the way it feels. And maybe she’s crazy. Maybe she just wants so desperately to fit against someone’s body, into someone’s life again, but she feels like fits perfectly tucked under Emily’s arm. She reaches up and toys with her dangling fingers and scoots as close to her as the seatbelt allows. She catches Christen smiling at her in the rearview mirror and she blushes but doesn’t move away. It’s a little annoying how well Christen knows her. It’s more annoying how often Christen is right. But above all else, Kelley is thankful. Thankful that Christen is in her life again because she knows she wouldn’t be where she is emotionally without her. So at least Lindsey gave her her best friend back in dragging her out to LA.

Kelley finds herself drifting in and out of sleep on the hour-long drive to Trestles. Sonnett’s comfy and warm with the cool morning air whipping through the open Jeep, and she really didn’t sleep well last night. Not that she sleeps well most nights. But last night was full of nervous energy from having someone at her apartment and nervous anticipation for what today would hold and just overall nervousness because she hates unknowns and Sonnett, as lovely as she is, is precisely that. Every single person that’s not Lindsey is an unknown. For everything that Lindsey was or wasn’t, she was always predictable, and there was comfort in knowing exactly how she was going to respond in every situation.

Kelley realizes she must’ve dozed off, because before she knows it, Christen’s reaching back and shaking her awake. The foursome make their way down the hill on their mile-long walk to the beach sharing the load of gear. Emily lets Bagel run ahead, but every time Bagel realizes her mom is out of sight, she comes tearing back up the hill, easily doubling the distance she’s having to cover. Every pass back, she darts through Emily’s legs like they’re weave poles. Every time, Emily stumbles in her flip flops on the gravely path. Every time, Kelley chuckles at her, and every time, Emily shrugs, her dog’s craziness seemingly as unbothersome to her as her students’.

“Sick,” Tobin says excitedly when they finally catch a view of the water. “The waves look clean today.”

Kelley agrees. “Let’s go to Middles.”

Tobin looks a little disappointed. “Ah, yeah, we got a grommet,” she concedes.

“Like the dog?” Emily questions.

Kelley squeezes her elbow. “She just means you’re a newbie. A very cute newbie.”

“All right, it’s fine, no one’s here yet,” Tobin gives in. “Chris, ready to try again today?” Christen’s already setting up her spot, laying out her towel, unpacking sunscreen, her book, her earbuds, taking off her sandals and toeing a divot in the sand for the base of her coffee cup to sit in. She half-snorts, half laughs at Tobin and ignores her. “I brought a longboard just for you.”

“Have fun, sweetie,” Christen smiles and plants a kiss on Tobin’s forehead before lying down.

“What- what does she mean try again?” Sonnett asks, suddenly nervous that this won’t be as easy as she thought it would be.

“You can swim, right Sonnett?” Christen asks. Sonnett nods with a gulp. “You’ll be fine. I’m sure Kelley’s an excellent teacher.” She shoots a glare in Tobin’s direction.

Kelley pulls her tank top over her head, and she knows Emily is staring. She feels eyes burning into her and she wants so badly to look and confirm it, but she also feels like as soon as she does, Emily will divert her eyes elsewhere, and Kelley doesn’t want that. At all. She wants to be appreciated, even if it is just for a moment on the beach. She wants to make someone’s heart rate quicken, to make someone’s breath hitch, to be the reason someone blushes and stutters and forget all the words in their head. She had forgotten how good it feels to be wanted. She slowly lowers her shorts, staring out at the ocean. Her happy place. Her safe place. And now she’s inviting someone new into it. She doesn’t know if that’s progress or a mistake.

She’s about to turn to catch Sonnett staring at her, when she doesn’t have to to confirm what she already suspected. Christen kicks Sonnett in the calf. “Close your mouth,” she says playfully.

When Kelley does look at her, Sonnett’s red to the tips of her ears, but there’s something about the eye contact that brings her back to herself, shimming out of her own shorts and lifting her shirt over her head, giving Kelley a wink and a show. 

“Why do I have such a big board?” Sonnett asks as Kelley and Tobin wax the boards.

“This one is super buoyant; it’ll be easier for you. Come here. Right handed?” Emily nods. Her eyes follow Emily’s muscular thigh down to her long, lean calf. She’s about to attach the leggy when she notices a large scar on the back Emily’s ankle and heel. Like a bruise begging to be poked, Kelley runs her finger along the length of it and Emily flinches. It’s an old scar, too old to physically hurt her now. Kelley looks up at her and Emily’s eyes are so sad that it stop’s her in her tracks from asking. Instead, she pats Emily’s calf. “Ready?”

She makes Emily practice popping up on an imaginary surfboard drawn in the sand before she’ll let her in the water. Emily’s not bad at surfing, but she’s certainly not good at it. Her impatience shows as Kelley forces her to paddle in barely knee-deep water to find the right spot on the board – not too far forward that the nose will go in and not so far back that the nose goes up, preventing her from catching waves. And then she only lets Emily progress to waist-deep water where she makes her ride foamies in on her belly because Kelley tells her there’s a lot to the timing of knowing when to paddle and when to pop up. “You’re acting like an athlete who’s never been bad at anything in her life,” Kelley laughs at all of Emily’s grumbling.

“Well, I mean,” Emily shrugs.

“This isn’t soccer, Sonnett.”

Finally, when Kelley thinks she’s done a thorough job of teaching, she lets Emily actually try to surf. “Paddle, paddle, paddle. Pop up!” Kelley knows her voice is barely audible over the wind coming off the shore and the crashing waves, but it doesn’t stop her from yelling until her throat is raw and hoarse. She can’t help but get excited for Emily every time, even if it’s not really helping. Over and over, Emily belly flops. Or bails because she’s afraid she’s going to fall. But every time, she walks back out, determined to get it right. There’s a fire underneath her calm. She talks to herself, and Kelley can’t tell if it’s an attempt to pump herself up or if she’s talking through what she’s doing wrong. She asks for corrections and advice every time. She so wants to get it right, and it’s admirable, really. Even when she gets exceptionally frustrated and yells a really loud “Fuck!!!” that Kelley can hear over the roaring ocean. “Sorry,” she says sheepishly as Kelley comes up beside her. 

She’s wobbly, but she finally catches and rides some whitewater in all the way without wiping out. Kelley paddles in after her, hopping off her board. She wraps Emily in a cold hug. “You did it!” The excitement is genuine, and not just because she feels like a decent teacher but because there’s a genuine smile, a look of success and pride on Emily’s face. “You really did it. Come on, let’s go again!”

“Ahhh… I think I should end on that,” Emily says, shifting her weight in the water. “You know, on a high note and all?”

“One more. Prove it wasn’t a fluke,” and Emily really can’t resist Kelley like this, so at ease and carefree and in her element.

“One more good one. That’s it. I’m exhausted. But I want to start father out. Catch a bigger wave this time. Like a real surfer.” 

“Um, that’s not what’s gonna make you a real surfer, but sure.” Kelley paddles out with her, duck diving to make it through the waves, but it’s mostly a disaster for Emily, the waves tossing her all over the place as soon as she can’t reach the floor anymore. “Can you try to do a push-up, basically, when the waves come? It’ll help them pass over your board,” Kelley suggests. That’s easy enough for her, but it takes her a few more tries to stand up and ride a wave in again. When she does, and the smile on her face makes Kelley think that maybe she’ll want to keep surfing.

Kelley stays out on the water with Tobin for a little while longer, reacquainting herself with a longboard, perfecting her cross-stepping, and soaking in the serenity. But eventually, she comes in and plops down on a towel next to Emily, resting her head on Emily’s bare stomach. “Ew. Wet,” Emily complains, but Kelley ignores her and Emily doesn’t try to move away. Tobin rifles through the picnic basket full of snacks that Christen packed, groaning about Christen and Kelley’s veganism, and finally settles on a protein bar. She tosses a couple to Emily and Kelley. While they eat, Emily absentmindedly rests her arm across Kelley’s chest and it feels so casually possessive in the best way that it actually hurts when Tobin’s voice cuts into the silence and Emily pulls her hand away.

“Lowers? So we can really carve?” But it’s enough to get Kelley excited and forgetting about laying around in the sand with Emily, mainly because she knows this will give her the chance to show off. 

“See ya out back,” Kelley calls to Tobin, hustling to get back in the water as soon as they get there.

Emily watches in awe as Kelley moves on her shortboard. The cutbacks. The 360s. The kickflips. It’s fantastic. It's come from years of perfecting a craft that is mostly pointless but brings her peace.

“She’s showing off for you,” Christen says without looking up from her book. “It means she likes you.” That’s enough to draw Emily’s attention away from Kelley. 

“How do you know that’s not for Tobin? Or you?”

Christen chuckles. “She stopped trying to show off for Tobin years ago when she finally realized Tobin doesn’t give a shit about competing with her. And it’s not for me either.” Christen pauses, then sets her book down. “This is a big deal for her, you know?” Christen says quietly. “Bringing you here. She comes with Tobin all the time, but the fact that she brought you is huge.”

Emily squints into the rising sun at Christen, feeling a little bad that maybe she pushed Kelley into it. “She doesn’t just bring everyone here?”

“She doesn’t bring anyone anywhere. Not since… ” Christen hesitates. “What has she told you?”

“That her ex moved for work and said she couldn’t be faithful in a long-distance relationship.”

“That’s accurate,” Christen says slowly. “I’ve tried for months to get her to date, so if she’s spending time with you, you’re special. Look, it’s not my place to talk about her past, but I know how hard she is to deal with sometimes. She sucks at communicating,” Christen tone is knowing, and Emily nods in agreement. “But, can I give you a little insight to her?” Christen asks and doesn’t wait for an answer. “Just be patient with her, because she’s worth it. I can guarantee that. And when she comes in, tell her ‘sick air. I’ve heard Tobin say that before. Or google some surfing term, I don’t know, so you can compliment her. She needs to hear those kinds of things. She needs to feel appreciated. She’s got this tough exterior, but be gentle with her.” 

Bagel drops a piece of driftwood next to Emily, and Emily plays fetch with in the shallow waves as she continues to watch Kelley. Kelley isn’t done until she catches a decent-sized barrel. Emily meets her at the edge of the water and takes her board. It’s a cute gesture, Kelley thinks. Unnecessary. But cute. “Sick air!” Emily says, giving Kelley a high five, and Kelley rolls her eyes, because she knows that’s all Christen. “Seriously, Kell, I loved watching you. You’re _sooo_ good.”

“Better than Tobin?” Kelley asks, shaking her hair out of its bun. It’s loud enough for Tobin, already walking towards Christen, to hear.

“Fuck no, dude. You’re never going to be better than me.”

Emily just laughs and winks at Kelley, but when Kelley goes in for a hug, Emily keeps her at arm’s length. “Ew, no. I’m already changed and dry, and you are cold and wet and you smell like an ocean. Turn round.” She unzips Kelley’s wetsuit. Peeling it off her shoulders, until it's sitting around her waist, she leans in and brushes Kelley’s hair away. “You’re gorgeous,” she whispers in Kelley’s ear.

In that moment, Kelley’s mind stutters. She can’t even remember the last time she’s heard that. “Thanks, so are you,” she says back, and she knows it’s lame, knows she can’t compete with the smoothness of the younger woman, but then Emily’s lips are on her shoulder, and suddenly, she thinks maybe she doesn’t have to.

“Salty,” Emily teases her, but she mustn’t care much because she kisses Kelley’s neck, and then her cheek, making her shiver. 

Kelley turns around and shoves her arms, covered in goosebumps, into the front pocket of Emily’s hoodie, and lets the taller woman warm her shoulders. It feels like they’re alone, even though the area is starting to see a few more surfers. Bagel brings her stick back, and Emily throws it into the water again, not ever letting go of Kelley. It makes her think that maybe Emily could be someone who never lets go. There’s a lot she thinks about saying in that moment, but she doesn’t say any of it.

They lay down next to each other, propped up munching on hummus and celery, warming up in the sun, until Tobin interrupts them again. “I need real food,” she complains. 

“Yeah, I’m famished,” Kelley agrees.

“If we stay out here much longer, I’m gonna need sunscreen. And I need to pee,” Emily adds.

Christen is the only one who seems content to stay all day, reading her book, but she's outvoted.

* * *

“Did you hate it?” Kelley asks as she pulls up to Emily’s place. Emily seemed mostly happy all day, fine really, but Emily always seems fine, which makes her wonder.

“Are you kidding? I loved it.”

“Yeah?” Kelley is surprised. “You wiped out more times than I could count. Couple pretty big licks.”

Emily smirks. “You can’t possibly think I suck that bad, can you? Kell,” Emily’s voice turns serious. “That was for show. How could I get you to take me back for another lesson if I showed you how good I was the first time?” The way she says it, so easily, so confidently, throws Kelley for a loop.

“You mean- ”

“Maybe I do suck that bad. Or maybe I’m really good at falling on purpose. Or maybe you’re a bad teacher.”

“Hey now!”

“I mean, there’s no such thing as a bad student. It’s our job to find a way to teach. Maybe you didn’t find a way with me.” Kelley looks horrified. “Then again, I was a world-class athlete at one point, could my balance possibly be that bad?” Kelley has no idea what to believe anymore. “Guess we’ll have to go again so you can find out which it is.”

“You know, you don’t have to keep creating these scenarios if you want to spend time with me, right?” Kelley says quietly.

“What do you mean?” Emily asks innocently.

“Paying so I’ll get mad and invite you out again. Keeping my sweatshirt. Bets. Sucking at things. You can just ask me out.”

“Can I though? You kinda have a fortress built around you- ”

“I do not." Kelley protests.

“I just figured it would be better to chip away at the walls instead of trying to kick the damn gate down.”

“That’s- ” 

“Fine,” Emily interrupts her. “Come in.”

Emily interrupts her more than anyone she’s ever been around, Kelley thinks, and yet, it doesn’t bother her. “I can’t. I need to shower.”

“See?” Emily says, like she knew that was coming.

“See what?”

Emily shakes her head. “You don’t like direct. It makes you uncomfortable. Triggers your defense mechanism.”

“Does not.” Kelley hates that she sounds like a child. She knows she sounds like a child.

“I have a shower. Two, actually. What’s your excuse now?”

“You spent all day with me…”

“Well I’m not sick of you yet in case that wasn’t obvious.” Emily gets out of Kelley’s car and walks around to go inside. Kelley just stares after her, not knowing what to do. “Well?” Emily looks at her giving Kelley one last opportunity. When Kelley doesn't move, Emily turns and walks to her door.

Before she can stop herself, before she can talk any sense into herself that she needs to take this slower, she’s out of her car and following the blonde.

“Took a whole brick outta your damn wall,” Emily says triumphantly at the sound of Kelley’s car door slamming. She doesn’t even turn around, and Kelley wants to hate it because it’s so arrogant. But she can’t. And it occurs to her that she’s just been looking for reasons to be annoyed with Emily, to hate this... this thing, to come up with reasons it won’t work, yet she can’t bring herself to hate anything about her. Because her confidence is just her personality and there’s nothing self-centered behind it. Because the more time Kelley spends with her, the more it seems that she really is genuinely kind and patient, like it’s not for show, it's not just for now.

“Missed a real opportunity to compliment me today,” Emily says as Kelley steps into her entryway.

“What are you talking about? I said I was proud of you. I complimented your perseverance and your good attitude and your- ”

“My butt, Kell. I waited all day. Wetsuit. Bathing suit. These cute shorts. Like, come on,” Emily chuckles.

“Seriously?” Kelley wraps her up from behind and brushes her lips against Emily’s sun-kissed shoulder. “You’ve got a cute butt, Sonny.” She can picture the smile as Emily murmurs her approval. And because she can, she smacks Emily’s ass as she walks away.

They step out of their respective showers at roughly the same time, Emily in a cutoff tee and shorts and Kelley wearing more of Emily’s clothes. “I’m changing back into what I wore today before I leave,” Kelley says almost defiantly as she dries her hair, annoyed that Emily sneaked clean clothes into the bathroom when she was in the shower. Emily shrugs, as if Kelley’s statement just further proves her point. But it’s just another step in breaking Kelley down, and it works. Kelley steps towards her, and Emily takes the towel out of her hand, tossing it over the back of the sofa. “You can’t put a wet towel- ” Kelley starts to chastise her, but then she’s wrapped up in Emily’s arms and has lost the nerve. “Why do you smell like that?” she asks.

“Like what?”

“Like home. In April. Like the Biltmore and the Mall and my front yard.”

“Because I miss home. In April. When the mountain laurel in our yard blooms. So I order soap and lotion online.”

“Miss it, too,” Kelley mumbles into her. Life was so much easier before she started following Lindsey all over the country. 

“God, my arms,” Emily whines, pulling away. “They feel so weird. Heavy. Like I can’t even hold them up.”

“Noodle arms,” Kelley grins. “You’re gonna be so sore tomorrow.”

“I was not warned of this.”

“Come on, world class athlete, you should’ve known. It’s not like soccer players use these muscles,” she teases, squeezing Emily’s bicep. But she relents and offers a massage.

With her hands on Emily’s back and shoulders, with Emily humming into the pain when Kelley hits the right spots, Kelley decides that giving into Emily’s desire to learn how to surf was the best decision she’s made in a long time. She can’t remember the last day that she’s had like this, so absolutely perfect. Doing something she loves with her best friends and a cute girl. Not a care in the world. Some flirting, which she hasn’t be a party to in forever. Being around Emily is so easy when she lets it be easy. 

“Hop up here,” Kelley pats the sofa. “Your calves and arches are gonna hurt too.”

“Oh hell no,” Emily almost shouts. “You are not massaging my feet.”

“You just got out of the shower, shut up.”

“I don’t care. Feet are so gross.”

“Oh yeah,” Kelley smirks. She rubs her bare feet on Emily’s thighs.

“Oh. My. God. Stop. Ew. I cannot. Get your feet off of me. I hate feet!”

Kelley can’t stop laughing at her. “Get up here then,” Kelley says as she catches her breath. Emily gives in to get Kelley’s feet off her. “Relax,” Kelley says softly.

“I can’t, I have a foot phobia.”

“That’s not a real thing.”

“Yes, Stanford, it is. Podophobia.”

“Whatever. You’re so quirky. It’s adorable.” When Kelley moves to Emily’s right leg, she traces the scar again. “This why you don’t play anymore?” she asks quietly and Emily nods. “Will you tell me about it?”

Three Achilles ruptures. One in National Team camp, one at the youth Tournament of Nations, and her final one in her Senior year of college. By then, there was nothing left to repair. They replaced her Achilles with a tendon from her foot. There was no coming back from that. No being a professional athlete. 

“I had kinda put all my eggs in that ‘I’m going to be a professional soccer player’ basket, so yeah. I had to come up with a new plan real quick. Sometimes, dreams don’t work out, I guess.” Kelley feels that deeply. “So now I shape the minds of America’s youth. Or play all day. Whatever.”

“Em…”

Emily just shrugs. “It is what it is. Besides, sometimes what you think is the worst possible thing that could ever happen to you turns out ok. Eventually. If you wait long enough. I mean, look where I ended up working. And now, you’re on my couch.” The revelation, spoken aloud, seems to embarrass Emily and she moves her feet out of Kelley’s lap. “I’m good,” she mumbles, and this time, Kelley doesn’t give her a hard time about it. 

* * *

**Emily Sonnett** : Come over. Need another massage.

 **Miss Kelley** : Wtf? It’s so early.

 **Emily Sonnett** : Not even kidding. Can’t turn my head I have so many knots in my neck. Prolly can’t get out of bed my back hurts so much.

 **Miss Kelley** : Then you won’t be able to let me in. Go back to sleep.

 **Emily Sonnett** : You need a key. But, world class athlete that I am, I fought through the pain and managed to get up so I can unlock my door now. But I cannot lift my arm higher than the doorknob. How far away are you?

 **Miss Kelley** : You just want to see me again.

 **Emily Sonnett** : Is that a bad thing?

Bring coffee. I can’t reach the mugs.

Are you on the way yet?

Stop and get Icy Hot.

 **Miss Kelley** : I will not put that shit on your body.

I’m bringing arnica gel.

And coffee.

 **Emily Sonnett** : And something for breakfast.

 **Miss Kelley** : You are demanding af. And whiny. I can hear the whine in your texts.

 **Emily Sonnett** : You did this to me. Now you have to take care of me.

As soon as Kelley’s inside, Emily is leaning into her, despite Kelley’s hands being full. “Can’t hug you,” Emily moans. “Hurts.”

“World class athlete, my ass, you're a big baby,” Kelley shrugs her off and sets her stuff down on Emily’s table.

“But you think I’m cute. You hopped in your car and here you are,” Emily says smugly.

Kelley turns around to catch Emily staring at her. She saunters over and runs her thumb across Emily’s lips, taking the expression “Wipe the smile off your face” literally. She lifts up and presses a soft kiss into Emily’s lips, letting hers linger, and before she knows it, Emily’s hands are on either side of her face, deepening the kiss. “I thought you couldn’t lift your arms,” she mumbles against Emily’s lips. 

“World class athletes push through the pain when they want something badly enough.” 


	9. Slow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life's never been easy for Kelley. This is easy like Sunday morning.

Dating Sonny – _is that what they’re doing_ , Kelley wonders – is one of the easiest things she’s done in a long time. It seems like they might… kinda… be dating, but Kelley can only recall Sonny using the word “date” a couple of times. For someone who seriously cannot shut up because she is exactly like the kindergarteners she teachers, the fact that they haven’t talked about it leaves Kelley feeling a bit unsettled. But she’s not going to be the one who broaches that topic. 

Instead, she settles for making Emily coffee in the faculty lounge in the mornings, just the way she likes it. She delivers it to her classroom, where Emily’s always working before their workday actually begins. For someone who likes to act like all she does is play all day, she’s actually incredibly dedicated to her students and to making learning fun. Sometimes, Kelley lingers over her shoulder and watches her typing away on her keyboard. Sometimes, she rests her hands on Sonny’s shoulders, lightly squeezing her back and shoulder muscles as she hunches over the computer. Sometimes, she traces her index finger over that cross tattoo on the back of her neck. Sometimes, she wants her lips on that tattoo, on Sonny’s neck, so she can feel her shiver. So she can smell home again. So she can wrap her arms around that strong frame and get lost in her neck. She can picture how Emily’s breath might hitch in that moment. How her eyes would close. How easy it would probably be to distract her from the work that she’s so focused on. How Emily would let her. Wouldn’t shrug her off or push her away. Would never make her feel like she’s a bother. Emily would probably spin around in that chair to face her. Pull her close. Maybe in for a kiss.

Once Emily is done teasing Kelley for her lack of interesting reading material, she hypes up The Hunger Games series so much that Kelley finally gives in and agrees to let Emily start reading it to her. It takes a lot of effort to wear Kelley and all of her grumbling about the lack of merit of books that “aren’t even realistic” down. Kelley walks into her classroom ready to start working on lesson plans for their mixed grade level project, only to have Emily tell her the entire thing is done and in her share drive, should she want to critique it. She spent the weekend doing work that should have taken the rest of the grading period to complete.

  
“Do you ever even sleep?” Kelley asks, dumfounded.

Emily ignores her. “As far as I’m concerned, it’s done. So now, we read.”

Without waiting for a response, Emily plops down onto the rug in the front of her classroom and pats a fuzzy yellow pillow next to her. 

“You said you were halfway through the second book,” Kelley protests as she realizes Emily is starting the series over. 

Emily just shrugs. “It’s worth it to start over.”

Maybe it’s worth it, Kelley thinks as she watches the facial expressions Emily makes as she reads the book. She’s so into it. 

It’s definitely worth it, she decides as she has to work hard to not smile listening to the different voices Emily uses for each character.

“You did this on purpose, didn’t you?” Kelley asks, staring up at her from the pillow she’s resting on. “This whole ‘project’ you came up with, it was just so you could spend more time with me?” 

There’s a twinkle in Emily’s eye as she looks down at her. “Not just time. Quality time,” she finally says, closing the book so they can go get their kids from Tobin’s room. “I’m sure you would have done a great job with this ‘project’ as you call it,” Emily mimics Kelley’s air quotes, “but you should stop with the air quotes. It’s a real project. If you think I don’t know what I’m doing, you can always check over it, Miss Kelley. Fix it. Make it better. Whatever. You’re the master teacher here, right? I didn’t want to spend this time working. Work is boring. You are not.” 

Kelley doubts that. Re-reading books sounds boring. Kelley sprawled out on her carpet, watching her read seems boring. But Emily doesn’t ever look bored. She has that same soft smile when Kelley walks into her classroom at 1:15 every day, and she always looks sad to see Kelley go.

Forty-five minutes out of Kelley’s day is decidedly not boring.

She brings Emily the Miss Kelley Special for breakfast once a week. It becomes their Monday thing. And she brings Emily vegan leftovers that draw a sideways look from Rose at lunch.

“You’re a vegetarian now?” Rose scoffs from the couch. “I know someone else here’s who’s vegetarian,” she muses, without waiting for an answer. Sonnett doesn’t bother correcting her, fully aware it would turn into “How do you know so much detailed information about her dietary preferences, Sonny?”

They start meeting for breakfast or lunch every weekend. Sometimes, they find time to see each other both days. Sometimes, Kelley invites Tobin and Christen along. On one hand, it feels like maybe there’s less pressure with her two friends there, like it’s just a group of friends getting together outside of work and not a date, because Sonnett never calls these meals dates. On the other hand, it feels exactly like a double date.

They certainly bicker like they’re comfortable enough with each other to have earned a label. 

“Oh, we don’t need straws,” Kelley puts her hand up as the server starts to set them in the center of the table with their drinks.

“I need a straw,” Emily protests.

“You don’t.” Kelley waves the server away, and he looks desperately between the two of them, not knowing who he’s supposed to be listening to.

“How’m I supposed to drink?”

“With your mouth, Sonny. She doesn’t need a straw,” Kelley says definitively, turning towards the server, and he seems to decide that she’s probably the one in charge, so he quickly scuttles away.

“I mean, the ice is gonna hit my mouth, I might spill…”

“I have complete faith that you’re old enough to drink out of glass,” Kelley says, squeezing her knee under the table. That stops her complaining.

When their food comes, Kelley starts picking on her again. “You eat like a boy,” she says, eying the ginormous breakfast burrito Emily’s shoving in her mouth. Kelley thinks it’s probably the biggest burrito she’s ever seen. Her eyes went wide when Emily ordered it – two eggs, potatoes, beans, onion, tomato, cheese, sour cream, green salsa, and shredded beef. 

“You eat like a rabbit,” Emily says, whilst still chewing. Salsa drips down her chin and she wipes it off with her thumb and licks her thumb clean. She points at Kelley’s acai bowl and salad, a disgrace after the long run they went on this morning, she thinks. “Bunny food.” She dips a finger in Kelley’s acai and licks that off too, grinning the whole time.

Christen watches the scene unfold, mouth hanging open, waiting for Kelley to explode over the finger in her food.

Kelley doesn’t explode. Maybe because her mind is on Emily licking something else off of her fingers. Maybe because Kelley wants to know what her fingers would feel like in Emily’s mouth, tongue swirling around. Kelley just shakes her head and turns away mumbling, “I know you do not have those manners back home.”

It’s not quiet enough and Emily isn’t about to let it go. “You can come home with me for Thanksgiving and see my manners for yourself if you want to know. Or have dinner somewhere nice with me.” Emily rests her hand on the back of Kelley’s chair and leans back in hers, balancing precariously on two legs. There’s barely enough time for Kelley to overcome the realization that she’s just – probably seriously – been invited home with Emily for the holidays. “Oh my god, can you stop that,” Emily sets her chair down after a moment and stares at Kelley.

“What?” Kelley asks, genuinely confused.

“Chewing on your ice!”

“No,” Kelley knits her eyebrows together and shakes her head as Emily stares at her.

“If I can’t use a straw, you don’t get to chew on ice,” Emily says very seriously.

“It’s not the same,” Kelley protests.

“You’re right. Your habit _kills_ my ears.”

“Your habit kills sea turtles,” Kelley shoots back. “And I can’t help it. I have an oral fixation.”

“A what?” Emily laughs because she’s pretty certain that’s not an actual thing.

“An oral fixation,” Kelley repeats.

“According to Freud, she has unmet oral needs from her childhood,” Christen chimes in. “She sucked her thumb until her sophomore year of college.”

“Ohmygod, Chris!” Kelley yells at her, horrified.

“And have you not seen her nails?” Christen continues, undeterred.

Kelley tucks her fingers into her hands. So she bites her nails. She’ doesn’t always have a file around. And they’re just… there… when she gets stressed. Or nervous. Or anxious. Or worried. Or scared.

“It’s real,” Christen says expertly, sensing Sonnett’s skepticism, and Kelley looks away from them both, because, well, it’s all true.

“Oh. My. God. This is why you’re a lesbian?!?” Emily blurts out after a moment of processing.

“What? No!”

“It is, it is!” she says excitedly, like she’s just she’s made some amazing discovery. “Oral fixation. That’s sooo gay!” she laughs. “You know,” Emily leans closer to Kelley until she’s almost whispering in her ear, “we could find more productive things to keep your mouth busy so you can give up all these bad habits.” 

The smirk on her face is priceless. 

So is the blush that creeps up Kelley’s neck and doesn’t stop til it reaches her earlobes.

Emily effortlessly weaves herself into the fabric that is Kelley’s everyday life. “What do you do when you get home from work?”

“I don’t know.”

Emily rolls her eyes. “Like what’s your typical Friday look like?”

“I order dinner and then relax in the bath with a book.”

“A self-help book.”

“Shut up.”

“When you get bored with those books, call me. Mondays?”

“The Bachelor comes on Mondays. So I stay home and watch that.”

“Ew no.”

“What does that even mean, no?”

Emily ignores her question. She wonders if this is how Emily gets through her days with thousands of questions being shot at her by four and five-year-olds. “Tuesdays?”

“I’m taking piano lessons because I failed at them as a kid. I just wanted to play soccer and basketball and I complained about it so much and practiced so little that my mom finally stopped forcing them on me. But now I regret it.”

“Wednesdays? Are you going to make me ask about every single day?”

“Well I didn’t know you wanted my entire schedule, Sonny. Wednesdays are for yoga. Thursdays, Tobin and Christen come over here and I cook and we hang out. Sometimes I go over there, but neither one of them can cook, so if I want real food, they come here. Saturdays are for long runs, and Sundays I do something different. Hike, kayak, find a pick up soccer game, golf.”

“Ew, no. Why haven’t I been invited to your little friend dinners. Sorry I messed up your Saturday with surfing. And you golf? That’s gay.”

“What is all this ‘ew no’ business and what do you mean golf is gay?”

“It’s pretty gay with those gay polos and gay shorts. I bet you look really gay. Probably wear a gay visor.” Kelley’s mouth drops open, because she does, in fact, wear a (gay) visor. “And I’m just trying to figure out what I might want to do with you. I’m not watching The Bachelor and I’m not doing yoga. You can feed me though, and I’ll run with you if you don’t mind me kicking your ass.”

Kelley scoffs. “Ok first of all, you won’t. Secondly, I didn’t invite you. Third, you’re really missing out on seeing my ass in yoga pants if you don’t come to yoga with me, and fourth, I could make the Bachelor enjoyable.”

“Are you flirting with me, Miss Kelley?”

Emily still refuses yoga, but that sounded like an invite to Kelley’s on Monday nights, so she makes it happen. Early on a Saturday, Kelley gets a phone call urging her out of bed. Twenty minutes later, Emily’s at her place, with coffee as a bribe, a spark in her eyes, and a plan to install a dog door in her backdoor. “You want me to hang out with you after work, my dog needs to be able to come and go as she pleases so she doesn’t get bored and so she doesn’t pee in my house,” Emily explains when Kelley grumbles about being dragged into the hardware store. “You gonna go for a run or are you gonna help me out?”

Kelley nods sleepily even though this, somehow, seems worse than a six-mile run. Long runs don’t start at 6:00 am. And why is the hardware store open so damn early, anyway?

Kelley’s not exactly much help. She helps get the door off the hinges and carried outside, but mostly, she lays around on Emily’s floor while Sonny’s measuring and marking, and outside on the chaise lounge while Sonny’s drilling and sawing. She could do more, she supposes. She watches, and it doesn’t look above her skillset, but why bother? Besides, Sonny looks hot in that cutoff shirt with power tools in her hand and Kelley’s good at reading the instruction booklet. And for her part, Kelley cleans up every speck of sawdust left behind from the project until both Emily’s house and patio are returned to their spotless condition.

With Bagel’s access to non-stop entertainment chasing squirrels high above her head, Mondays after work – cooking with a couple glasses of wine followed by The Bachelor – quickly becomes their thing. Kelley doesn’t think Emily ever actually watches it, though she can never be sure because Emily’s head always ends up in her lap urging Kelley’s fingers through her hair. She relaxes to the point that Kelley always wonders if she’s sleeping. Kelley wants to say, “I told you so,” but she feels like the lucky one with this beautiful woman on the couch with her so she keeps her smugness to herself.

Emily finally asks her out on a real date. To dinner and then dancing. It brings up a bitter taste in her mouth for a moment. Lindsey would never dance with her. Not once. She swallows that down and reminds herself that she’s better off now. Well, it’s more Christen’s voice, annoyingly right as always, in her head, that reminds her.

“What did I tell you a long time ago?” Christen asks, her big sunglasses hiding her eyes as they sit at the picnic table during recess, watching Sonny’s class bear crawl through red light, green light. The realization of how exhausted they’re going to be makes Kelley a little bit jealous that she’s never thought about this with her class.

“How should I know? You tell me a lot of shit.”

“And you only listen to half of it. I told you when we broke up that you really shouldn’t date anyone without my permission because I know you better than you know you.”

“Oh yeah.” Kelley seems to recall that conversation happening one night, a few weeks after they broke up, Christen back in her dorm, forcing her friendship on Kelley and still using Kelley’s shoulder as a pillow. God, that’s was so long ago and things were so much simpler back then.

*****

In college, they couldn’t have been more different. It’s said that opposites attract, but really, Kelley wasn’t thinking about personality when she saw Christen for the first time on the track that blazing hot day in August of her sophomore year. It was their kickoff to two-a-days. She thought about those long, tan legs glistening with sweat. 

She wasn’t thinking about personality when she went over to talk to the freshman less than a week into practice because she had already decided to way to Christen’s heart – or at least into her bed – was to take Christen under her wing. She was thinking about how easily a smile always graced Christen’s lips. 

She wasn’t thinking about personality when she winked at Christen across the locker room as they were changing for their game against Rutgers; she was thinking about how cute her butt looked when she was bent over, sliding her shin guards in the sleeves. Christen scored her first goal in Cardinal Red that afternoon, a great unassisted finish past the keeper. The goal, combined with that pre-game interaction endeared Kelley to the superstitious young forward.

She wasn’t thinking about personality when Christen sat next to her at Casper during dinner that night. She wasn’t even thinking about the words coming out of Christen’s mouth; she was captivated by those green eyes. 

And she certainly wasn’t thinking about personality when she went down hard on a tackle against Cal. She was thinking about how pretty Christen was with that dark curly hair. Standing there, blocking out the midday sun as she hovered over Kelley, forehead scrunched in worry. She looked like an angel, halo and all. Kelley got up, powered by Christen’s beauty and the knowledge that she cared about Kelley, and added her fourth goal of the season off of Christen’s assist. 

They were a great pair, really.

Goal – assist. Assist – goal.

Kelley’s untamed fire to Christen’s Zen.

Kelley pushing herself to be as fast as Christen, as creative on the ball. Christen pushing herself to be stronger, with better vision, mentally tough.

Christen’s self-doubt to Kelley’s off-the-charts cockiness.

Kelley’s confidence, her ability to live her life so freely, made Christen realize she could come out to the people she was closest to.

Christen was the only one who made Kelley comfortable enough to let go of her need to be in control. Kelley was the only one Christen trusted enough to accept a compliment from and actually internalize it as true.

Christen called her on her bullshit more than anyone. All the time – on the field, but especially off. Christen knew her better than anyone ever had, but only because Kelley allowed it. 

But they weren’t a _perfect_ fit, except for when they were naked. Kelley was too brash for Christen’s shy temperament, especially in public. Too reckless for her reserved demeanor. And her cockiness was always just to cover up her insecurities. Christen was full of her own; she couldn’t heal Kelley’s too. They made better friends. They met other people. Moved on romantically, Kelley into the arms of a cute soccer player from Cal, the one who took them to sudden death penalty kicks in the playoffs, almost knocking them out. 

But they stayed close. They were always going to be close. Christen was the reason Kelley didn’t have a total breakdown after she played her final soccer game, a heartbreaking soft red leading to her exit with almost 18 minutes left to play. Christen was there for her. Christen would always be there for her. Just like she was there for her when Alex chose her boyfriend over Kelley. Alex was straight, and deep down, Kelley knew that all along. Alex broke her heart, but not her spirit, not her soul. Turns out a heart heals faster than either of those things. She wouldn’t find that out until Lindsey broke all three.

The best friends moved on physically, Kelley returning to Georgia when she graduated to teach, and Christen going back home to LA the following year. Christen didn’t know that the level of chill achieved by Tobin was possible until she started hanging out with the quiet art teacher. Tobin was so chill that it almost seemed like she didn’t care about anything. In fact, she cared about a lot of things, deeply. In Tobin, Christen found her perfect fit. 

Kelley started volunteer coaching youth soccer on the weekends. It was there she met a tall, blonde midfielder, making an appearance for the national team, whose fire raged with almost the same intensity as Kelley’s always had. Early on, they butted heads. They chalked it up to passion. They chalked it up to the distance. Lindsey convinced Kelley to move to Portland, and thus began the power imbalance that marked their relationship for years. When Lindsey was traded to LA, Kelley followed. Christen found her a job.

Things were simple until Lindsey.

There were red flags. The first red flag Christen was privy to was Kelley begging her and Tobin not to let it slip that Kelley and Christen had dated in college. She knew she’d never get to work with Christen, much less hang out with her, if Lindsey knew. Christen almost blew a gasket – the first time in all of Kelley’s relationships since that she had vehemently spoken out about Kelley’s choice in a woman. Even though Christen had first-hand knowledge of just how stubborn Kelley had always been, and even though she knew that every time she opened her mouth about Kelley and Lindsey’s relationship, it probably just made Kelley dig her heels in deeper in an attempt to prove her relationship could work as well as Christen and Tobin’s, Christen never stopped being vocal about what she thought about Lindsey. About Lindsey’s lack of respect for her. About how Kelley never let anyone tell her what to do, but she let Lindsey control her every action and interaction. She witnessed Kelley’s sadness. She witnessed some of their arguments. She watched Kelley become a fragment of the fiery person she once was, the thing that made Kelley Kelley. So Christen figured she owed it to her friend to keep speaking up in the hopes that one day she could get through that hard head.

She finally did.

Sometimes, it seems too late.

But Kelley didn’t follow Lindsey back to Colorado when her requested trade was approved. She put her foot down then. She never could really articulate why that potential move was the final straw. It was partially because Lindsey’s family was there and Kelley thought it was bullshit that they couldn’t even spend Christmas in Georgia but Lindsey would be able to see her family on a weekly basis. It was partly because Lindsey didn’t even really seem to care if Kelley came with or not. It was partly because Christen was in her ear reminding her that this was her chance to finally live her own life again. It was partly a test to see if Lindsey really cared enough to make it work apart. 

She clearly didn’t, but that didn’t make it any easier for Kelley to say no every time Lindsey came to LA. So really, Kelley taking a stand wasn’t much of a stand in Lindsey’s eyes. Probably.

*****

But things are simple with Sonny. 

She could stop overthinking. Let things be. She’s able to most of the time, but sometimes, she remembers that nothing has ever worked out in her life and nothing good has ever lasted. That scares her.

Her parents’ divorce.

Her dog that her dad got rid of when they moved out. That dog was her best friend. Her comfort when her parents were in the other room screaming at each other.

Lindsey. Though at least inadvertently, Lindsey had given her her best friend back.

Her grandma – the only person she could ever trust, the only person to love her unconditionally.

Everything good eventually ends in heartbreak.

“And what did you do with Lindsey?” Christen’s question brings her back to the present.

“Dated her even though you told me not to.”

“And what happened?”

Kelley glares at her. There’s literally no need to say it. “She broke my heart.”

“She broke your heart,” Christen repeats, and really, she sounds a little bit like an asshole when she says it, but in her defense, she tried for so long to get Kelley to see what she saw. “So do you want to know what I think about Sonnett?”

“Do I have a choice?”

“No. I think you’re a fucking idiot.”

“Um, that’s about me, not her,” Kelley points out.

“Whatever. They’re related. I think you need to open yourself up again.”

“Still about me.”

“I think you’re going to miss a really good opportunity with a really good woman because you’re so scared of getting hurt again and for what? What is life if not about getting hurt until you get it right?” Hurt means you’re living.”

“Do you know how supremely stupid that sounds?” Kelley asks. Because seriously, Kelley wonders if Christen has every truly been hurt. Christen doesn’t get it. Not really. 

“She’s taking you dancing,” Christen shrugs. “How many times did you ask Lindsey to take you dancing? And how many times did she take you?” It’s rhetorical. “All you did was tell her you like dancing and now look.”

They move together on the dance floor like they’re meant for each other. And Emily walks her to her door. Kisses her under the soft glow of the porch light and walks away without expecting anything else. Kelley’s so close to opening her mouth and telling her to stay, but she’s not ready to risk her heart yet.

She loves how every time she’s at Emily’s house in the evening, and she’s getting ready to leave, lingering by the door, Emily takes her hand and says, always quiet and sincere, “You can stay, you know?” There’s never any pressure. She’s never made to feel bad about saying no.

She always says no.

Until one time she doesn’t.

It takes Emily a full thirty seconds to recover from hearing a yes. She accepts yet another UVA t-shirt, this time to sleep in. The blue and orange isn’t that bad. She rejects Emily’s offer to sleep on the couch and give Kelley her bed. She stops their make out session when she can feel her own wetness pooling in between her legs and she’s having to rub her thighs together because she’s so desperate for contact. She shoves three pillows in between them. A physical barrier will prevent her from doing something she can’t take back; at least she hopes it will. Emily chuckles softly and gets up, turning the light on in the bathroom and pulling the door to so just a sliver of a glow creeps into the room. 

“What?” Emily asks, noticing the bewilderment on Kelley’s face as she leans down to kiss her forehead.

“Why’d you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Turn the light on in the bathroom.”

“Because I don’t want you to run into something in the middle of the night. Maybe eventually you’ll have stayed here enough times that you memorize where my furniture is and where I throw my shit when I get home from work, but a stubbed toe is not a first impression I want to make. Or second, but first really because you were too drunk to remember the first first.”

Kelley thinks she might be in love.

Emily gets back in bed and throws her arm across the pillows, finding Kelley’s hand because Kelley’s stupid barrier is not going to stop her from some very innocent hand holding. They fall asleep with their fingers intertwined and wake up with their bodies intertwined and the pillows on the floor.

And then one time, after she’s stayed enough times to memorize the path to the bathroom, Kelley throws the t-shirt Emily offers back at her. “We can do without clothes tonight.”

She sees the way Emily’s face changes, the way she almost doesn’t believe what Kelley’s saying. Kelley lifts her shirt over her head, and even though Emily’s seen it all before, in the bathroom at work, at the beach, those times didn't prepare her for this moment. “Close your mouth and take your shirt off, Sonny.” Emily scrambles to get her shirt over her head. When Kelley wants something, she gets it. Like Lindsey. Her determination may be relentless, but no one’s ever accused her of having sound judgement. This feels like a better decision. It took Kelley a long time to be sure, but when Kelley O’Hara is sure of something, she is sure, and right now, she is sure she needs Emily under her. If she still had any lingering doubts, the way Emily’s looking at her right now, with such want – a want she hasn’t experienced in years – would chase those thoughts away.

Kelley hooks her fingers behind Emily’s jaw and as Emily starts to open her mouth, she runs her thumb over those thin lips, before effectively silencing her with a kiss.

“Kell, are we- ” Emily starts, barely separating their lips enough to get the words out. 

Kelley pulls them back together, squeezing Emily’s ass as an answer. Emily sighs into her mouth and when she regains her composure, she lowers Kelley onto her bed. Kelley sinks back into the mattress, feeling the weight of Emily’s body on top of hers. It feels good. Safe. She works her hands from Emily’s hips, dragging her nails up along her ribs, and Emily sucks in a sharp breath. 

“Are you sure?” Emily asks, searching her eyes. “I need to know you’re sure.”

“So sure, Em,” Kelley breathes into her neck as she sits up just enough to unhook Emily’s bra. She pushes the straps down Emily’s shoulders until her bra falls off. “So fucking sure,” she whispers as she scoots down just enough to guide one of Emily’s nipples into her mouth. Emily lets out a high-pitched squeak as Kelley’s lips suck her nipple into a tight peak and she grinds down into Kelley reflexively. 

She likes that sound, and that reaction. She likes that more than she likes Emily’s thigh between her legs, pressing up into her. She feels powerful. Needed. Sexy.

She rolls Emily’s other nipple between her thumb and index finger gently and uses the distraction it brings to flip them, because she's not used to safe, and feeling safe for too long starts to make her uncomfortable. And God, she’s gorgeous. With her cheeks flushed and her chest splotchy pink and those light grey eyes so wide and hungry. The change in position doesn’t stop Emily from rolling her hips up into Kelley, so impatient. Kelley slows them down, kissing her ear, sucking on her earlobe, nibbling gently at her neck as Emily hums under her. She kisses down her chest, nipping at her abs, until she finds a sensitive spot just under Emily’s waistband. She focuses her tongue there for a minute, hot and wet, as Emily squirms, before taking her pants the rest of the way off and tossing them aside. She works her way back up Emily’s thighs, nosing at the wetness seeping through her underwear. 

“Fuck,” Emily grates out, and Kelley comes back up to kiss her again, working her thigh between Emily’s legs while she pulls at her lower lip.

“Tell me what you want, Em,” Kelley whispers in her ear, taking advantage of how far gone she already is. 

“Fuck,” Emily’s pants. “Fuck, I want your tongue.”

Kelley takes her time, exploring between Emily’s folds, sucking on her lips, separating them so she can circle around her entrance. Every time she grazes Emily’s clit, she feels Emily’s nails digging a little more into her scalp, until Emily can’t take it anymore and fists her hands through Kelley’s hair, keeping her where she wants her. It doesn’t take long with Kelley’s stiff tongue flicking her clit, for Emily’s vocalizations to ring in Kelley’s ears as she arches off the bed and tugs a little roughly at Kelley’s scalp when she pulls her away as she comes. Kelley kisses her inner thigh as she trembles through an aftershock, and it sends a spasm through Emily’s legs, causing them to clamp together as she tries to control the throbbing in her pussy. 

She’s barely come down from her orgasm when Kelley presses her thighs apart and thrusts her tongue inside. Emily moans into her arm, and before she can ever catch her breath, Kelley’s sucking softly on her clit and bringing her over the edge again. Kelley laps up her juices and then wipes her mouth off before kissing her way back up to Emily's mouth. 

Emily pulls Kelley in, kissing her deeply as her hands slide down Kelley’s spine to her ass. “Too much clothes on,” Emily complains, trying to push Kelley’s legging down her hips.

Kelley helps her out, sliding them off, along with her underwear, and lays back down on top of Emily, head against her still heaving chest. “Fuck, Kell,” Emily breathes, letting her hands drift to Kelley’s ass, and Kelley can’t help but smile into Emily’s hot, sweaty skin. She can still feel Emily twitching under her. “Wanna taste you,” Emily mumbles into the top of her head.

Kelley’s breath catches and it sends a pain through her chest. She wants that too, so bad, and she knows that Emily’s thigh is wet with her own slick by now, so Emily knows too. But she’s not ready for that yet. Not ready to be that vulnerable and exposed. Not ready to let herself go. 

She sits up, straddling Emily, and lifts her sports bra over her head. As she lowers herself back down onto Emily, letting their nipples brush, she pins Emily’s arms over her head with one hand.

“Let me, please,” Emily whines, struggling a little against Kelley’s grip. Kelley slides her other hand down between her legs, gathering some of her juices, and raises her fingers to Emily’s lips. 

Emily sucks on them eagerly, swirling her tongue over the tips, eyes closing in ecstasy. As soon as they’re are clean, Kelley slides her hand between Emily’s legs, separating her lips again, rubbing up from her hole to her clit. She feels Emily buckle under her, like she would collapse if not for the bed. A low, shuddery sound escapes Emily’s lips as Kelley enters her with two fingers, and Kelley feels her own wetness dripping down onto Emily and the mattress. 

Kelley props herself up on one elbow so she can watch the way Emily reacts to her fingers moving in and out, exploring her walls, then thrusting deeper. She watches as Emily’s brow furrows and she bites her lip, little huffs of air escaping from her nose in sporadic intervals. Watches as her head lolls to the side and her abs flex. And then she slides back onto Emily, forcing her legs apart with her own thigh. Emily’s body curls up into her as she curls her fingers against Emily’s g-spot. A few quick, rhythmic strokes, and Kelley feels Emily tighten around her, falling apart again, under her this time.

She won’t see the marks on her back from Emily’s nails until the morning. She’s too lost in the way Emily’s crying out right now, alternating between Kelley's name and expletives as Kelley moves her fingers right back to Emily’s clit to make her come again before she’s even completely finished with the previous orgasm. 

“Hey,” Emily says sleepily, as she strokes Kelley’s hair. “That was so fucking amazing, but- ”

The “but” makes Kelley tense up instinctively. 

“But can I please- ”

Kelley cuts her off with a finger on her lips. “I’m good. Better than good,” she tries to assure Emily. “Tired. Spending the night.”

“Glad you decided that, cause I wasn’t gonna let you leave,” Emily murmurs, pulling Kelley closer.

Yep, things are good. 

They’re good the next morning, when they wake up, a tangled mess of arms and legs and sheets. 

They’re good when Emily stupidly smiles after Kelley, watching her as she gets out of bed to go to the bathroom, and Kelley looks back and sees her.

They’re good when Emily makes her breakfast. 

Things are so good that she forgets Lindsey will be in town for her game against Angel City the same weekend she plans a getaway with Sonny. Sun. Sand. Surfing. Sex. 

It was supposed to be perfect.

It would have been perfect… except for a text message.

**LH** : Are you picking me up from my hotel or are you going to make me take an Uber?


End file.
